The Battle For Ferelden
by Michelle-Ann85
Summary: Ferelden burns. As factions form to fight the self imposed Regent a singular Grey Warden joins forces with the new, reluctant King of Ferelden to gather their scant allies to lead a war on two sides. King Alistair and Daylen Amell have a fight on their hands in a war that will make legendary heroes and villians.
1. The Templar and the Mage I

_A/N: Welcome to the new, improved chapter one. I've decided that while I write the rest of this, I will sporadically be editing and improving the first eight chapters which were written without the input and corrections of Darkly Tranquil. _

_Those of you who have read later chapters will probably see the foreshadowing of later events described in more detail. To say this makes a better read is an understatement, and editing this has been an eye opening experience to say the least. But, then I consider this to be a journey of writing, improving, learning and trying again. _

_I would be grateful to anyone who gives me feedback on the chapter – if you have already reviewed it, then please drop me a PM. I'm curious as to how you will all view the changes. _

_So, as we have had a 'take two', shall we go for 'third time lucky'? _

_13__th__ Havestmere, 9:30_

_Ostagar, Ferelden._

His Royal Highness Prince Alistair Theirin, Crown Prince of Ferelden fumed as he threw aside his brother's written decree. He had not fought in a single battle since arriving at Ostagar, but this new order felt like nothing short of an insult; King Cailan had decided in his 'infinite wisdom' that Alistair was only worthy of babysitting a flame atop of a tower with Ferelden's newest, blindest, magiest Grey Warden. Oh, how the mages of Ferelden adored him. He imagined the mage wasn't exactly going to be happy about it either. So it would be yet another battle he would not fight in; at least on every other occasion Cailan had dressed it up as commanding the reserve detachment should the darkspawn break the front line but it didn't take a genius to work out that Cailan clearly did not think he was good enough to join him on the front lines.

Alistair sat down heavily in a chair and leant against the table pondering his change in fortune over the past six months. Perhaps it would have been better if Cailan had left him in the Chantry resigned to his fate as a stoic, unrelenting Templar. It wasn't as if he was trusted to do any more than sit on the side lines while Cailan showed off his skill in battle, basking in more and more glory as the golden King of Ferelden. He didn't specifically want the glory Cailan seemed to thrive on, but it would be nice to do something that didn't involve standing around when he could be doing something useful – like skewering darkspawn on the rather nice long sword that had been presented to him as a late wedding gift by Teryn Cousland when he had arrived for the first time in Highever.

In the past six months, his brother had paraded him around impressively and this was no different; everything from his acknowledgment as a Prince of Ferelden to his lavish wedding to Lady Elissa Cousland of Highever were all carefully planned events. He was sure they were all designed to show Ferelden how forward thinking Cailan was in providing, at least, a temporary solution to the growing concerns about the succession. All Alistair had to do was smile, look happy about it, and get Elissa with child in case Cailan did not provide an heir of his own.

In truth, Alistair didn't really feel like a Prince, and although he was getting used to being royalty he wondered if he would every shake of the feeling that he was just a commoner who happened to be the son of King Maric. To make it worse, his brother had actually formally made him Ferelden's King-in-Waiting, meaning that should Cailan die in battle, Alistair would automatically take the throne as he already had the approval of the Landsmeet and the fealty of the Bannorn. It was a precedent that could only be used when the current King was to go into battle so as to not leave the Kingdom without a ruler should the worse happen. While it was all well and good in the eyes of the Kingdom, Alistair had yet to work out how to be a man free of the confines of the Chantry, much less a Prince and now possibly a King. The Maker only knew what Cailan was playing at.

Still, that didn't mean he was going to sit back and be happy with his brother's decision. While they weren't what you might call close, the boisterous, unflappable King of Ferelden had told him that he was always welcome to make his voice heard; a privilege that might just be revoked after this outburst. Alistair donned his armour without the aid of his trusty steward Imeric Couldry, who had unaccountably disappeared into the camp on some unfathomable errand or other, taking some minor satisfaction that while he might not be able to do many of the things his brother could, he could at least get dressed without the aid of servants. Checking himself over one final time to ensure that all the buckles were firmly cinched and the plates sitting correctly, Alistair exited his tent and made his way to his brother's ostentatious royal pavilion which, owing to its garish colours and design, was hard to miss. Cailan's home-away-from-home was an enormous octagonal monstrosity made of alternating strips of canvas dyed red and yellow, the colours of the Royal House of Theirin, with small pennants bearing the three mabaris rampant of the Crown of Ferelden fluttering from the numerous tent poles that supported the grandiose affront to good taste.

Apparently, it wasn't enough for Cailan to have a tent like anyone else, he had to have this outlandish looking thing from Antiva in order to remind everyone at all times where the king was to be found. Alistair's own otherwise comfortable accommodations were small and drab by comparisons; kind of like me, Alistair reflected with a degree of bitter amusement.

Alistair's eyes flicked over the other pavilion beside the King's noting that Teryn Loghain already left some time ago to ready his troops for the ambush. Alistair was grateful for that; the Teryn was an ever foreboding presence who cast his dark, distrusting gaze over everyone who dared to approach the King.

That Loghain should be directing his scowling gaze at everyone he encountered was not, in and of itself, unusual; in the relatively brief time he had known the man, he had yet to firmly establish if the grizzled general was in fact capable of any facial expressions other than a frown. But in spite of that, Alistair could not help feeling that since they had arrived at Ostagar, Loghain's expressions had, if it were even possible, become frostier than he had previously noticed. Or maybe it was just him? It was well known that Cailan's decision to acknowledge him had been against Loghain's advice.

It was slightly disconcerting after being used to the more easy going, friendlier manner of Teryn Bryce Cousland, his young bride's father. The head of the Cousland family had become a mentor to the fledging Prince, guiding him through his new duties with a firm but friendly hand. It was just a shame he was letting the Teryn Cousland down by not being much of a husband to his daughter. Overwhelmed by the extent of all he was expected to learn, he felt he had become somewhat neglectful of the beautiful women who most men in the Bannorn would have given there right arm to marry. She had grown distant during the month they spent in Denerim to hear the news of the Blight; she had passed it off as tiredness, he had seen a weariness in her eyes and he wondered if she wasn't coming to regret their marriage. Elissa had given up a great deal of her personal freedom in becoming his wife. He hadn't pressed her into revealing the reasons for her distance; he didn't really know how to and he was a little afraid of the answer she would give him. He had been aware that Elissa had been ducking marriage for some time and had only recently started considering who she might take as a husband when they met. It was not because she had any eagerness for marriage, quite the contrary was in fact the case, but because she had been assaulted by Thomas Howe for rejecting his advances again, and securing a husband would protect her being subjected to the further attentions of Howe and other of his ilk. When this was over, Alistair vowed that he would do better by his wife; it did not take a genius to work out that she was a rare and wonderful beauty who deserved nothing less than his love and devotion.

As he entered the King's tent without waiting for permission to do so, he saw Cailan being dressed in his grand armour of gilded Silverite. He held up the decree. 'What is this supposed to be?'

Cailan cast his brother a sidelong look. 'An order, I believe,' he said good-naturedly. 'I need you up there.'

Alistair's face darkened, his eyes narrowing on his brother. 'You need me to babysit a torch while you get all the glory?' he inquired struggling to keep his voice civil and remembering he was not just talking to his brother but to his King as well. 'I should be on the field. I'm not exactly uncertain of how to use my sword.'

'I am aware of that, which is why I need you up there,' he replied. 'I need someone up there I can trust.'

The young Prince saw what he thought was a grimace pass across the face of his older brother. When Cailan did not comment further, Alistair said, "I thought Loghain's men were up there?"

"They are," Cailan confirmed.

Alistair was now genuinely confused. "But if you can't trust Loghain, who can you trust?"

The King turned his gaze on his new-found sibling. "You," he said simply.

Alistair frowned at Cailan. There had been a lot said between them since Alistair had returned to Denerim to hear the announcement that the darkspawn were massing to the south. He didn't like where much of this was going, not least because Elissa had come to similar conclusions he had after the Bannorn had sworn their loyalty to him should Cailan fall. 'You speak as if you suspect treason from Loghain,' he said dropping his voice.

Cailan ran his hand though his golden hair looking uncharacteristically agitated. 'I fear I have crossed Loghain's final line of tolerance,' he replied. 'Things are looking less certain, brother.'

'You fear we will lose this night?' asked Alistair. 'Then perhaps you should be off the field, sire, you are our King.'

'What sort of King would I be if I left my men to fight this alone, Your Highness?' Cailan asked with the stiff formality of a man insulted.

'I doubt any would judge you, Your Majesty,' he replied carefully, noting that as the King had called him by title, he should do the same. 'You have been on the field for every other battle, even our father did not engage in every battle he planned against the Orlesians.'

Cailan shook his head. 'I'll not hear of it,' he replied, 'I have led my men here and I shall stay with them. It is not mere men we fight here, but creatures from the darkest pits of Thedas. You should fear not, brother, I am perhaps melancholy due to our long stay here.' Their eyes met; all that boyish charm back. 'I hate to ask you to do such a seemingly menial task, but I trust you will not fail.'

The dismissal was implicit, leaving Alistair with little choice but to bow and withdraw. 'I will not, Your Majesty,' he said with deference before turning his back on the King and heading out into the early evening.

Alistair was far from convinced by Cailan's joviality; he knew that things were not right. There had been whispers to that effect in the shadows of Denerim. His steward Imeric, who seemed to have ears to the ground in every noble house, inn, tavern, whorehouse, and Maker's knows what else, had reported that the nobility grew increasingly restless about the state of the Royal household. There had even been some rumblings that Anora might have to be put aside for the good of the nation if she could not bring forth an heir in the near future. The failure of Queen Anora to produce an heir was itself a factor in Cailan's decision to acknowledge his bastard brother and to wed him to the daughter of the powerful Cousland family; a sop to silence the concerns of nobles who feared a crisis should some misfortune befall the King. The deteriorating situation with the Darkspawn at Ostagar would only serve to further spook the already fractious and fearful nobility. Alistair suspected that the Bannorn was regretting supporting Cailan after Maric was lost at sea; many of the Arls and Banns had wanted Teryn Cousland to take the throne. His wisdom in ruling, popularity with the nobility and secure line were all attractive prospects, but the Teryn had declined putting his support behind Cailan.

While the Ferelden army had seen victory in the battles they had faced so far, their losses were forcing them to draw reinforcements from further and further afield to replenish their numbers, and in spite of the fact that the Fereldans felled ten Darkspawn for every man lost, nothing they did seemed to appreciably thin the horde's numbers. Reflecting on the reinforcement issue, it occurred to him that it had been nearly a week since the arrival of Fergus Cousland and the Highever soldiers, but there was still no sign of Teryn Cousland, Arl Howe, and the troops from Amaranthine. Scouts as far north as Lothering had reported no sign of the five-hundred strong force Howe was bringing. Fergus had intimated that the Amaranthine contingent seemed to be dragging their heels, but that his father and the additional forces should have been no more than two days behind him. Teryn Cousland should have arrived four days ago, and yet there was still no sign.

That wasn't the only evidence that pointed to something wrong. He had sent several letters to Highever addressed to his wife, and while she did not reply to every letter it had been nearly ten days since the last one. Elissa asked him to write so that she would know he was well, and in return, she promised him she would do the same. This would be the first time she had been left in charge of the Terynir when there was a real possibility that she could find herself in the role of Teryna should her father and brother fall in battle. Prior to his departure for Ostagar, Elissa had confided her fears about the whole situation, and they were both acutely aware that they were only a single Darkspawn blade away from their lives changing forever. He and Elissa had discussed their respective wishes for their married life, and both had agreed that ruling over Ferelden was something they could happily do without. But if Cailan fell in battle, there would be no avoiding the responsibilities that came with his blood and he would be obligated to become King, a prospect that whenever he considered it, filled him with a cold dread. Alistair sighed and sent a whispered prayer to the Maker that the Couslands were fine, that no harm came to the Princess or her family. But it was difficult to tell himself such things when faced with the dire events that were happening around him. Instead he set about looking for his steward, if things went badly tonight, as every fibre of his being said it was going to, then he needed to get word to Elissa. If all was well in Highever, then it was likely she would have left for Denerim again; now a senior member of the royal family, she would be required to attend the Satinalia festivities in the capital. True to his ever optimistic nature, the King had been confident that he and the other nobles leading the forces at Ostagar would be back in for the celebrations.

He found Imeric haggling with the quartermaster for some of his strictly 'under the table' wares. Alistair was fairly certain that he wasn't supposed to know about the 'unofficial' inventory the quartermaster was maintaining, which was why he had sent Imeric to obtain a Silverite rune on his behalf, lest he draw undue attention to the man's clandestine business despite every one knowing about it. He hoped that his steward would be successful, as he was keen to get the rune mounted on his sword before the next battle, assuming that he could find a nice mage around here to do the work. As he waited for his servant to conclude his negotiations with the Quartermaster, he absently wondered if there were any nice mages, as he certainly hadn't encountered any thus far. Due to his well-known history as a former Templar initiate, he did not enjoy any popularity with the magi, so he was well aware that getting their co-operation would involve significant expenditure of charm and effort. Still, he remained hopeful. He had seen the Spirit Healer who had helped Elissa after her encounter with Thomas Howe; she had greeted him with a smile and when he asked, she had explained what the mages were doing. She was nice, but she was a healer, not a runesmith.

'Every time you show up, he hides the damn thing away again,' Imeric groused as he sauntered over to his lord. His blue eyes twinkled with something akin to mischief. 'You'll never get that flashy Silverite rune at this rate.'

Alistair chuckled as Imeric fell into step with him. His steward was always well groomed with a professional appearance that seemed to be at odds with his ability to haggle and deal with the merchants and soldiers. When Alistair had first met him, he had assumed that Imeric was, as he was, a nobleman's bastard. They were always easy to identify due to certain facial features that seemed to dominate much of Ferelden's nobility – high cheeks, rounded chin, and long nose; all features that Alistair carried as well. However, he soon discovered he was wrong when he had encountered Imeric's elvish mother from whom he had inherited his near noble facial features.

'Perhaps if you were more effective at haggling you'd have had it by now,' Alistair pointed out wryly.

'Aye, well, I didn't expect him to be the cagey sort,' replied Imeric, slightly affronted at having his abilities called into question. 'Apparently he doesn't want to get himself into any trouble. I did tell him that everyone from you downwards knows about it, and it's only the King who's walking around with the clouds in his head, but he won't have it.'

Alistair shook his head at the candid man, barely suppressing a smile. He liked the man, and once he had gotten over his initial trepidation of having a personal steward a decent rapport had sprung up between them. While it was a relaxed relationship, when compared to those who served Cailan, Imeric always called him and Elissa by their respective honorifics which maintained their respective roles as master and servant. It had been strange having someone to serve him after being brought up as a commoner. Although he might never think of himself as a prince, Alistair had come to accept that other people did and with that came a certain expectation about how to behave around the people he had once considered his peers. Imeric had proven himself to be reliable, not just as a servant, but as a man who had his ear to the ground and Alistair soon found he had a constant stream of information from Imeric's 'contacts'. It amused him no end that Imeric had a shady side, but so long as he wasn't robbing the nobles, Alistair found he could let that slide in return for being well informed.

'Anyway, was there something you needed, Your Highness?' Imeric asked as they approached Alistair's pavilion.

He explained what had happened with Cailan in hushed tones once they were in the pavilion. Imeric looked troubled at the news of the King's doubts, but he promised that should things go ill, he would get the hell out of Ostagar and back to Denerim in time to intercept Elissa before Satinalia to give her the news of what had transpired. It was not a burden he wanted to leave with Elissa should he die, but should things go ill, Alistair was confident that Elissa would know what to do with tidings.

Once he had sent Imeric on his way, Alistair pushed the dark thoughts from his head; he had a mage to find and then a job to do. Maker willing, he would have the morning to set about discovering if all was well in the Northern Terynir that had become his home. Alistair made his way over the Warden Encampment where a lone mage and the Warden Commander stood apparently arguing; clearly Ferelden's newest Grey Warden wasn't happy about being kept off the battle field either, although Alistair was uncertain at what a blind man could achieve. There was rumour from the Circle mages that Daylen Amell had overcome his blindness and was still a force to be reckoned with. That somewhat scared Alistair not that he liked to admit it or anything.

'My skills,' Amell said to the Commander, 'the ones you claim to be highly prized will be better put to use on the field not babysitting a pyre atop a tower.'

Duncan sighed. 'It is by the King's command, Daylen,' he said before looking up to see the Prince. 'Your Highness?'

'Commander,' he greeted with a nod of his head. 'His Majesty has commanded that I accompany your Warden into the tower.'

The Mage turned his unseeing eyes on Alistair; he was tall but rakish, a testament to a life time in the Circle as oppose to a life time of physical hard work. Alistair was surprised to see that he was young, older than him but far younger than the other Warden's in the camp. Daylen Amell would have been handsome were it not for the scars that dominated one side of his face. Against the flickering light of the bonfire, the scars cast odd shadows across his face. Alistair could not help but feel sorry for the man; it was clear the scars on his had been created by being burnt but how and by what he didn't want to speculate. The injuries were the likely cause of his blindness. His eyes were glassy and glowed, flickering in the fire light, with only the barest hint of the blue they once were which added to the illusion of an unnatural luminosity in his eyes.

His lips were curved into a sneer of immense displeasure, and he threw his hands in the air in disgust. 'So not only am I reduced to an errand boy, but I am to be accompanied by the Templar Prince.'

Alistair frowned; so that was the inventive nickname the Chantry and Circle had come up for him. It was wonderful to finally see them putting aside their difference to work together on something truly important. So nice to see the Blight bringing people together; perhaps when the night was out they could all line up and dance the Remigold in celebration as well. Sod fairer rights for mages and not being looked upon like the dirt of Thedas's shoe, so long as he had a nickname. The Prince shifted his stance and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding the mage, who looked about ready to launch into another round of argument, when Duncan spoke again.

'I believe His Highness has forsaken any vow he took as an initiate,' the Commander told his Warden sternly.

Amell shrugged carelessly. 'As if that makes it better, he is still a puppet to their teachings,' he sneered.

'Well, how about I promise not to smite you, if you promise not to turn me into a toad?' offered Alistair, affecting a good nature to his voice that was plainly sarcasm.

'Do not mock me, boy,' Amell shot back.

'Enough,' rumbled Duncan. 'The King has commanded that you do this with the aid of Prince Alistair. You are a Grey Warden, and I expect you to act like one; if you wish to be distrustful of the Prince then do so politely.'

Even Alistair had to smile at the Commander's choice of words.

'Your Highness, I trust my Warden will come the no harm with you?'

'Well, I can't speak for any darkspawn we may encounter, but from myself, no,' he said.

'I will hold you to that,' replied Amell, 'a single hint of dispelling…'

'And nothing,' cut in Duncan again. 'Do try to remember it is the Crown Prince of Ferelden to whom you speak and not some initiate with an ill-conceived grudge.'

Amell bowed to Duncan before stalking away with unerring steps in the direction of the Tower despite nothing being able to see. Alistair looked back at the Commander.

'I would not normally speak of a Warden's background particularly with someone who is not one of us,' explained Duncan solemnly, 'but it my understanding that Daylen was involved with an altercation with a Templar some years ago that left him without his sight. It makes him more distrustful than most.'

Alistair nodded his head. 'I will do my best to see his is not harmed,' he said as a sickening horror filled him with the realisation whoever had been responsible for Daylen's injuries was someone he would have been expected to call brother, bound together by lifelong vows and Lyrium addiction. He shuddered.

'Quite,' agreed Duncan, as he guessed Alistair's train of thought.

'Commander, perhaps you could watch over our King as I watch your man,' Alistair asked of Duncan as he pushed away dark thoughts of the Templars replacing them with bleak thoughts of the battle ahead.

'I will do my best, Your Highness,' he said quietly.

Alistair offered him a bow. 'Then may the Maker watch over you, Commander.'

'And you,' he said, 'Highness.'

-…-

The ruin at Ostagar was eerily quiet as men filed in rank into the gorge below leaving just the sick in the infirmary, Prince Alistair and a blind, bad tempered, Templar-hating Mage who was twirling his staff threateningly. Alistair attempted not to look at him, drawing his sword and looking at the men in the gorge and to the far right where the faint flickers of Loghain's flanking force. A strange feeling rose in his throat as he pondered Cailan's earlier words, 'crossing Loghain's final line of tolerance'. It was yet another bad feeling he had to put aside. He certainly didn't relish all these bad feelings. Alistair looked over at the Mage. 'Ready?' he asked him.

Daylen brought his staff down with a sharp clack on the paving stones. 'As I will ever be.'

'Right, then. Off we go. The sooner we start, the sooner we're there,' said Alistair moving off assuming the mage didn't require him to hold his hand or anything.

As such the mage kept place with Alistair with no trouble, his unseeing, glassy eyes almost glowed in the night but they remained resolutely staring off into the darkness. As they reached the end of the bridge Amell's staff touched his shoulder bringing him up short. He looked back to see the mage's empty gaze on him.

'You should be mindful, there are darkspawn ahead,' he said quietly. 'Be wary of their blood or else you may be in for a lengthy and painful death.'

Alistair didn't need to be told, he had seen the fate of men infected with the corruption of the darkspawn, the day and night were intermittently pierced by their agonised screams. The first night at Ostagar, the sound had kept him awake and he had found himself at the feet of the statue to the prophet Andraste, praying that the men found peaceful release from their pain. As the days wore on he blocked out the cries but every morning he prayed for them to the point the Revered Mother commented that had he been so dutiful in the Chantry he'd have been made a Templar long ago. The callous remark only served to reinforce Alistair previous suspicion that she really was a poisonous old hag than she had been when he'd had to deal with her when he was Initiate, thinking it ill that she could interrupt personal reflection in such away. The difference between Ser Alistair of the Templars and Prince Alistair Theirin of Ferelden was that he cared for the men and women that pledged their lives to fight for Ferelden whereas he didn't care enough about the Chantry and its works to dedicate his life to them.

A thought hit him as he realised the implication of Daylen's warning. 'What are they doing this far forward of the line?' he hissed. 'What do we do?'

'Kill them,' replied Daylen in a manner that suggested it was the obvious thing to do. 'Have you ever faced a darkspawn, Your Highness? I am certain that you have been here for some time.'

Alistair sighed. 'You'd think that,' he said bitterly, 'but I think I was dragged along so that I could marvel at the King's magnificence while I watched from the side-lines.'

'You've not actually fought in battle since being here?' asked Daylen incredulously.

'Nope,' replied Alistair. 'I've been akin to a glorified squire to the King.'

'Well, the only advice I can offer is to stick your sword in them,' said Daylen. 'I'll try not to hit you.'

It scared Alistair how deadly accurate Daylen was. The mage pin-pointed their darkspawn foes and dispatched them quickly and efficiently with a barrage of precise spell casting that left Alistair grudgingly impressed. After the first skirmish was done he turned on the mage, sword away but hands on hips. 'How did you do that? You can't even see.'

He hadn't meant to say it like that, but the mage had even managed to pull off a few shots over Alistair's shoulder that would have surely killed him if they had hit him instead of the darkspawn. The Mage leant against his staff and smirked at him as if he were actually looking at Alistair.

'There are other ways to see,' said Daylen. 'My other senses compensate for my lost one.'

'Well, that was certainly impressive, Ser Mage,' replied Alistair. 'Thank you, I think you may have saved my life once or twice.'

Daylen's expression changed, surprise was etched in this young but scarred face. You're welcome, Your Highness.'

'Please, just call me Alistair,' the Prince said. 'Everyone calls me 'Your Highness'. I'm in danger of forgetting my own name at this rate.'

-…-

The Prince and the mage battled their way through the ranks of darkspawn that infested the lower levels of the tower, but saw no sign of the Gwaren troops that were supposed to be manning the structure. In one room on the lower level, they discovered a large hole in the floor that appeared to have been recently excavated. This, Alistair presumed, was the Darkspawn's point of entry into the tower. If Loghain's men had known of this vulnerability, then why hadn't they informed the king of this potentially fatal flaw in the plan.

Reaching the top of the tower, exhausted and aching from battle, they were confronted by an ogre that appeared to be busily devouring the remains of the unfortunate soldier that had been manning the lookout post. Alistair stumbled to a standstill muttering an expletive that made Daylen whip around in surprise.

'They teach you those words in the Chantry?'

'You'd be surprised at how much a thorn in their side I was,' muttered Alistair with a smirk. 'But that doesn't solve how to kill a fifteen foot ogre.'

'In theory I'd assume it wouldn't be much different to a six foot Hurlock.'

'I'll distract it while you do your magic thing,' replied Alistair running forward with his sword drawn and shield at the ready.

Somewhere between the bridge and the top of the Tower to the two men had come to an unspoken agreement; Alistair watched for Daylen's magic and applied his physical strength in its wake, speeding up their kill rate. So far Alistair had witnessed the Mage freeze, shock and incinerate their enemies while he followed up those attacks with his sword in the gullet, across the throat, pommel hits to the head and just about anything else that would finish off the monstrous creatures. With that in mind, Alistair went into distracting the beast, instinctively ducking when he felt the drawn of magic from behind. Daylen hit the creature with a frozen blast that only left a light frosting over the skin of the creature. The ogre roared as Alistair went for its hamstrings, hoping to bring it to the floor; it would be a lot less deadly if it were lying on the ground. Despite his best efforts, Alistair was certain that thus far, all he had achieved was to enrage the beast further, which by his reckoning, was not a particularly good result. It was bad enough having an ogre stomping around but an ogre in a temper was a particularly hazardous proposition. He managed to plunge his long sword in the hulking beast's knee just as Daylen called for him to watch out. Alistair rolled, diving as far as his heavy armour would allow as the ogre was brought to its knees in a storm of lightening. He picked his moment, running for the beast and then leaping, springing from the floor in a move that seemed impossible for him to achieve under normal circumstances. His sword plunged into the creature's putrid chest, assailing his senses with a stink that made him want to retch. The ogre bellowed as Alistair pulled his shield down, slamming the edge into its neck right through flesh, muscle and artery.

'Watch for its blood,' Daylen yelled, reminding Alistair to keep his mouth shut as he jumped off the dying beast.

Once clear, Daylen flayed the ogre with lightening until it lay lifeless and slightly smoking. Alistair swiftly turned his attention to the battle below but the tower was so high he couldn't see much of anything. 'We've likely missed the signal,' he told the mage, 'we should just light it the beacon.'

Without a word, Daylen took his aim; strangely accurate again and threw a powerful fireball that exploded setting alight the beacon. Alistair's eyes shifted to the location of Teryn Loghain's force, watching, waiting, his breath was held in his throat as Daylen joined him.

'Why aren't they charging?' hissed Alistair.

There should have been some movement, anything, but he couldn't see a thing, not now the smoke was billowing through the room. The chamber doors banged open, causing both men to turn towards the noise just as the flanking force on the far side of the field began to march away from the battle still raging in the gorge. Another motley band of darkspawn flooded into the room howling and roaring their bloodlust. Before either man could react, they were struck by a volley of arrows and crossbow bolts, the projectiles easily piercing their armour to plunge into their chest, abdomen and limbs.

Alistair's thought of his failure as he collapsed; he might have carried out his brother's wish, but he had failed Daylen and also Elissa, a widow before he had ever worked out to be a husband to her. His last thoughts were of her as the darkness took him and his wish that she would find happiness with a person of her own choosing.


	2. The Templar and the Mage II

_**16th Havestmere, 9:30 – The Wilds, Ferelden. **_

Everything hurt, worse than when he had been attacked in the White Spire. It was all a little vague but he did remember being peppered by arrows. Daylen could only assume the same had happened to Prince Alistair and was likely dead although how he was alive he had no idea. He tried to move his body but it hurt to do so more from several days of lack of movement.

'You are awake, Mother will be please,' said a voice he had a little recollection of.

It was one he had dismissed some time ago. His now dead fellow recruits had called her a Witch of the Wilds; such tails were properly exhorted by apostates hiding in the lands where Templars dare not tread. The wilds were probably teaming with these so called witches. He briefly though he would ask Alistair about it before remembering that he was probably dead and the dead didn't talk over much.

'You were the girl we met before,' he replied, his voice croaky from under use for several days.

'Girl, pah,' she sneered, 'I am Morrigan and not a girl. I knew we shouldn't have bothered saving you but Mother was insistent that you and your friend should live.'

Daylen tried to process that as he sat up. How could two women, one likely haggard and the other no more than a child save him and apparently Alistair.

'My friend?' he went for the easy question first.

'Yes, a suspicious, dim-witted one, he wasn't with you before,' replied Morrigan, 'he's been muttering about apostates for days now.'

Days.

It hardly seemed possible. Daylen ran a hand through his hair trying to remember; naturally he remembered the Templar Prince who had actually been far from odious and assisted him in many ways. Had it not been for his skill with a sword he'd have been dead before reaching the doors to the tower. There were so many darkspawn past the line and he couldn't fathom how they had gotten up the gorge without anyone else noticing.

'What happened?'

'The man who was supposed to respond to your signal quit the field,' she spoken hesitantly, feeling out his reaction it seemed. 'Everyone on the field was slaughtered; your friend hasn't taken it well.'

'Everyone?' repeated Daylen, sickness creeping up in his stomach. 'Even the King?'

'Even the King,' confirmed Morrigan.

Daylen blinked. 'I need to see Alistair.'

'I think that would take more magic than me or my mother possess,' she drawled.

In reply he held a hand and muttered under his breath. The sound of a shriek followed by a crunch told him he had found his mark. 'There are other ways to see, little girl.' He turned his attention away from her angry muttering as she got herself up, feeling for his robes, which he found at the end of the bed.

After he had pulled them over his head he made his way outside, where he was greeted by the sound of a crackling fire, it was the only sound he could make out. The rest of the Wilds seemed deadly silent, even in comparison to his first venture into the Wilds when he had been sent on the mission that made up part of his Joining. The corruption of the Blight was spreading, inching closer and closer to the Kingdom that had become his adopted home.

'You're awake,' said Alistair from somewhere in front of him.

Daylen frowned to himself, disorientated from whatever had happened was leaving him feeling a little vulnerable but he knew something of the Templar; he was in no danger but it was still frustrating to be in a new setting without his mind working at full speed. Of course, he didn't like to admit it but he had been spiralling a little since he had left the Tower. It had been his home for so long, the space that he had recovered in after the incident at the White Spire, where he had made friends, although some of that was bitter; Jowan was a fool and Maker spit on him.

'I told you he would be fine,' said another voice, the one that had belonged to Morrigan's Mother. 'You worry too much.'

'I thought you were dead for sure,' continued Alistair, clearly ignoring the witch.

'As did I,' Daylen agreed, leaning against his staff for support. 'This doesn't seem real, everyone dead?'

'The Grey Wardens, your Commander, even Cailan,' Alistair confirmed his voice hollow from the shock. 'All dead.'

That his voice was shaken was no surprise. They had battled through a small army of Darkspawn together only to discover that their efforts had been wholly wasted. Now there was nothing left; Daylen's new Warden family was gone, he could feel a strange emptiness in his chest as if something had been torn from him. Alistair was in no lesser situation; he had lost his brother, his only living blood so it was said. Daylen looked up sharply suddenly aware of where the Prince was stood. He was a Prince no longer he was the King. Daylen wondered if the young ex-Templar had taken that in or if it would come later.

'We'd be dead on top of that tower, if it were not for Morrigan's mother,' continued Alistair his voice faint.

'Do not speak of me as if I am not here,' muttered the witch.

Daylen could sense power there, a power he had not felt before; it was old older than Irving anyway and that was saying something. Irving was a powerful old coot, but what he could feel from Morrigan's mother was so old it felt almost primeval.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean, but you haven't told us your name,' Alistair pointed out, exasperation touching his voice.

'Names are pretty,' replied the witch, 'but useless. However, the Chasnid folk call me Flemeth, I suppose it will do.'

Daylen felt out towards her, seeking to touch the magic there. '_The_ Flemeth from the legends? Daveth was right – you are the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?' He was at loath to believe it, and he wouldn't, but this woman felt potent, unlike her half-wit daughter inside who was making stew no doubt to poison them all.

'And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well, has it not?' asked Flemeth.

He nodded his head, suspiciously glancing in the direction he knew the Prince to be stood. 'Why did you save us? You don't seem the altruistic type.'

Flemeth laughed out her broken cackle. 'Well, we couldn't have the Grey Warden's and Theirin's dying all at once,' she remarked, still laughing. 'Someone has to deal with the darkspawn. Besides, is it not the duty of the Grey Warden's to unite the land against the darkspawn? Having the King on your side will surely not hamper that.'

Alistair snorted. 'I'm not much of a Prince; I don't see that I'll be much of a King either.'

'With that attitude, neither do I,' remarked Flemeth coldly, 'but the King you are with the last of the Grey Warden's I suggest you make something of it, boy.'

'She has a point,' Daylen agreed, 'but this doesn't make sense, we were fighting the darkspawn. Why did Loghain do this?'

'Now that is a good question,' replied Flemeth darkly. 'Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes he can out manoeuvre this army, or perhaps he does not see the true evil behind this threat.'

'The archdemon,' muttered Daylen quietly. He had seen it, in his dreams over the past few nights, the rearing dragon singing to its horde as it marched to the surface and from the south. 'Then we need to find it.'

'But how?' asked Alistair, 'I'm pretty certain it isn't dancing a merry jig in the Wilds calling for you to come and get it.' He sighed. 'And besides no Grey Warden has ever defeated a Blight without the army of a dozen nations at its back.'

'Do neither the Grey Wardens nor Theirin's have allies these days?' enquired Flemeth

'It's a little hard to tell when the King's General quits the field of battle,' replied Alistair sharply. 'As for the Grey Wardens, they have these treaties I took from Daylen's pack. I've been studying them.'

'You can't just read through Grey Warden treaties,' said Daylen dangerously. 'They are private.'

'Well, I don't see how you'd be able to do it,' bit back Alistair.

Daylen glared in his direction, as best he could, but Alistair had him; he couldn't have read the treaties if his life had depended on them. 'Fine,' he said crossing his arms. 'What do they say?'

There was a rustle of paper as Alistair clearly started flicking through the ancient documents. 'There are agreements from the Mages, Elves and Dwarves, all promising aid if a Blight were upon us,' he explained, 'they are old, but they are valid. There are other places we could get aid; Arl Eamon and Teryn Cousland were not at the battle, the Arl will still have all his men, the Teryn won't though, they were at Ostagar with his son, but he will be able to provide us with help.'

'Are you certain of that?' asked Daylen. 'How can we be sure that this Arl and Teryn haven't thrown their lot in with Loghain?'

'Arl Eamon is Cailan's uncle, not mine, you understand, he is Queen Rowan's brother, so he will not have stood by and allowed his nephew to be slaughtered,' explained Alistair. 'As for Teryn Cousland, he is my father-in-law, I would trust him, and he has supported Cailan through much and Maric before that.'

'I might be an old lady, but Elves, Mages, Dwarves, this Arl Eamon and Teryn Cousland sounds like the beginning of an army to me,' laughed Flemeth, 'perhaps you have it in you after all. You could be quite a team together.'

'Right,' said Daylen, holding his hand up to stem the speed of talking between Alistair and Flemeth. 'So where do we begin? I've only been a Grey Warden for a few days, perhaps a week now.'

The sound of plate grating against plate signalled that Alistair had begun pacing. 'I would say perhaps the Teryn, his voice has more power than Eamon's not to mention I wish to check upon my family, the Teryn was supposed to have been at Ostagar but I believe there was a delay with Arl Howe, perhaps someone else who could help us,' he said, talking as much to Daylen as himself. 'But what about you; is there anything you need?'

'The Circle of Magi is on the northern road to Highever, I believe,' said Daylen, 'I think it wise we stop there on our way, I believe it might just strengthen our case if we have been able to use one of the these treaties to our advantage. Not to mention, I need more supplies from the Tower if we are to do this. My supply of Lyrium is running low.'

'If I might put it,' said Flemeth, 'your plan seems to be shaping up nicely; but you had very little in the way of supplies on you. I do not have much I can give you in that regard, though some might say I have already done much for you. Might I suggest you allow Morrigan to show you out of the woods to a nearby village? She knows the lay of the land well and will be able to guide you around the darkspawn.'

The sound of the door opening behind him indicated that Morrigan had been waiting for her moment. 'And do I get a say in this Mother?'

'No, girl,' replied Flemeth, 'they need your help and you will willingly give it to them until they say otherwise, do you hear me?'

'So I am to be ceremoniously thrown from my home?' enquired Morrigan, clearly with much theatrics.

'Why are you complaining, you have been threatening to leave the Wilds for some time,' said Flemeth, 'now is as good a time as any for you to stretch those wings you've been preening for years.' She crackled again.

'Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,' said Alistair slowly, 'but outside of the Wilds she will be looked upon as an Apostate, surely that will make things harder, not easier?'

'You have a problem with illegal magic's?' enquired Flemeth, 'perhaps I should have left you on that Tower to be devoured like your brother.'

'Hold up a second,' said Alistair, his voice becoming tainted with annoyance. 'Thank you for what you did, I will be ever grateful, but surely you have heard of the Chantry and Templar's and their delightful devotion to making Mage's feel like they are less than slaves?'

'And you think she will be safer with me?' asked Flemeth. 'I can only hold the darkspawn off for so long, boy.'

Daylen moved closer to Alistair. 'She could be useful, she knows the area, and I won't say no to additional magic.'

'But what if she is Maleficarium?' muttered Alistair. 'An Apostate is one thing, but blood magic?'

The Mage shrugged. 'I'll get out the way while you Smite her, if you like?' Then Daylen looked up. 'We'll accept your help to the village at least, but be warned, we're watching you.'

'You mean he's watching me?' enquired Morrigan. 'Fine, I shall get my things.'

'I don't like this,' said Alistair quietly, 'I can't shake the feeling that there is more to this.'

Daylen shrugged helplessly. 'You might be right,' he agreed, 'but we also need help out of here. I mean it though, if she's trouble, you Smite her.'

'Fine,' said Alistair, 'but be on your guard. I do like this is but they've back us into a corner here.'

'They have really swooped in on us here,' said Daylen in a dark tone.

'Yes,' agreed Alistair, 'swooping is bad.'

Daylen was certain many things would never happen in his life and right at the very bottom of that list was becoming friends with a Templar. Shortly before that was becoming friends with a member of Royalty; being from a noble family himself, Daylen remembered how such people could be and they weren't his favourite people. Yet here he was in the middle of the wilds with an apostate and a man who had trained as a Templar who was now King. Of the two, he preferred Alistair. It was a little grating when he kept up an almost constant stream of observation, but he also pitched in and put his rudimentary hunting skills to good rustling up a few hares on each night. It was difficult to dislike a guy who took his turn at keeping watch without a grumble.

For someone like Daylen, who had been shunned his entire life; it would be easy to turn his back on all of this. However, he had seen and felt the rising demon. Daylen knew he could run and hide wherever he wanted, but this Blight would catch his heels and pull him into the abyss. He buried his head in his hands, hidden by the dark; ever since his mother had left him at the Gallows, he had wanted to prove to his family and that Maker forsaken city that he Daylen Amell could rise above it all. So he decided, on a cold night in the middle of nowhere with the song of despair creeping over his mind that he would do everything he possibly could to hunt down the beasts that now invaded his life and watch them crumble to ash before him.


	3. The Templar and the Mage III

_**19th Harvestmere, 9:30. Lothering, Ferelden. **_

Lothering was a small village but a large trading hub at the biggest cross road in Ferelden; it had built up as a stopping place for merchants. From here you could go east to Denerim, west to Redcliffe and north to Highever. The stop here was hopefully to be a short one as they stocked up on enough provisions to get to the Circle Tower and to hear the news. With Lothering where it was the remaining army would have travelled through so Alistair was hopeful of getting news about the position they were going to be in once they set out to find the help they would need. To help their case, he had done his level best to obscure the emblem on his armour that identified him as the King of Ferelden. Morrigan had sneered at his attempts and he met her remarks by challenging her to suggest something better. It wasn't as if he could magic away the Theirin-Cousland crest that was engraved in on his breast plate. He was at loath to do it, though, but without knowing what stories Loghain was spreading about what had happened at the ruins in the south it was better to be inconspicuous.

As they reached the village they came across some men lounging across the Imperial Highway. Alistair placed his armored hand on Daylen's shoulder. 'We have company ahead,' he muttered quietly as the armed men ahead got to their feet. 'Armed company.'

'Loghain's men?' asked Daylen.

Alistair took a long look at them taking in their worn leather armour and rusty blades. 'Common thieves, I'd say,' he said.

'I say we teach them a lesson,' said Morrigan, eyeing them disdainfully. 'Would not take long to dispatch such fools.'

Alistair raised his eyebrows at the apostate before they continued slowly towards the thieves who quickly introduced themselves as toll collectors for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway.

'Odd spot to want to maintain,' said Daylen, his voice good natured after they had named their price. 'Intending to give the darkspawn an easier path into Lothering perhaps?' Then he turned to Alistair. 'Tell me, my good friend, are these polite men doing a good job of maintaining the Highway?'

Alistair glanced around good naturedly. 'Oh, yes,' he said, picking up on Daylen's act. 'Delightful, the cracks in the road and missing stones are very authentic.' He shook his head as he looked back at the leader. 'This is pathetic, you know, a terrible charade. You'd be better off just announcing you are going to rob us, at least then we could draw sword without feeling too bad about it.'

One of the larger men stepped forward to his boss. 'This isn't a good idea,' he said. 'They ain't like the others. Maybe they're from the Teryn's army.'

'No, the Teryn's men passed through days ago,' said the Leader rocking back on his heels, 'so perhaps these here are deserters.'

Morrigan snorted in disgust. 'Do I look like I belong to any army?'

She had a point, Alistair decided, in her clearly scavenged and sewn together outfit that looked like it was in clear need of finishing. He'd never been aware that clothing could cover so little. Elissa had worn the occasional plunging neckline, and her hunting gear was so figure hugging it left nothing to the imagination, but she didn't walk around half naked. Still seeing her dressed like some fiery goddess of the hunt hadn't helped his out of control libido and desire for her that he had never managed into channel into anything other than fumbling attempts to woo and bed her. Not that he felt the same about the sharp tongued, frankly terrifying Morrigan, but curves were curves and he was still acting like a hapless virgin.

'Thankfully not,' muttered Alistair, 'but you certainly look like the retinue of 'working ladies' we acquired along the way.'

The witch snarled at him, with narrowed eyes; he'd have to watch her and make sure he was prepared enough to Smite her if necessary. He was hopeful that he would able to convince Daylen to send her back into the Wilds, but knowing what was following them, it seemed heartless to do that. They'd deal with her later, she had thus far been true to her word and led them out of the Wilds unharmed. But Maker knows what other plans she had up her sleeves and he would most certainly be complaining if she turned them into toads and fed them to the darkspawn.

'I'm a Grey Warden,' Daylen announced to the thieves.

The look on the leaders face changed just a little, exposing just a tiny notch of fear before it the joviality was in place once again. 'Grey Warden's you say?' he asked. 'Regicides, I hear, Teryn Loghain has quite a bounty on your head for the murder of good King Cailan and Prince Alistair.'

Alistair crossed his arms and glared at the man. 'Is that so?' he asked darkly.

'Yup. Wanted dead or alive,' the bandit leader continued. 'So you'd better hand yourselves over and we can do this peacefully, or else, you know, we could kill you.'

'Kill us?' said Daylen in his most innocent but sarcastic voice, 'but aren't I a frightful King killer?'

'And Prince killer, and a Mage,' added Alistair. 'Don't forget that. I reckon we have them outnumbered with yours and Morrigan's skills.'

The bandit leader visibly blanched this time and the colour didn't return to his cheeks this time.

'You aren't exactly lacking with that sword and shield, my good friend,' replied Daylen before learning towards Alistair. 'Are they scared yet?'

'I'd say minutes away from soiling their draws, if I were a betting man,' the King muttered back.

Daylen turned back to the bandits. 'How about a new deal, Gentlemen,' he said in his most charming voice and a wide grin. 'You turn over everything you've stolen, and then be on your merry way. You don't die.'

Alistair raised an eyebrow at his friend despite knowing that he couldn't see his expression. 'You can't just-' he started but Daylen waved him off as several of the bandit's implored their leader to hand over their goods for the day. One even pointed out that there wasn't much point to money if they were dead and that there would be more travellers tomorrow. As they turned their backs on them, Alistair spun on Daylen. 'You know there is this little thing called the law? It's pretty clear cut when it comes to thieves you know.'

'Yes, a hanging I believe,' said Daylen quietly.

The leader came back with a handful of coin. 'This is all we've collected today, take it, and we'll be on our way,' said the leader, handing over money. 'There are a few other things in the truck if you like.'

'Excellent,' replied Daylen taking the money and pocketing it before reaching around to grab his staff.

Alistair watched almost shocked as the blind mage whipped around his mental staff bringing it down on the shoulder. 'Do you really think we're going to let you get away to rob more people tomorrow?' he asked as he drew a ball of flame into his free hand. 'You're coming with us to the village.'

'But they'll execute us,' replied the leader, staggering to stand straight. 'The Templar's will show us no mercy.'

Daylen turned to Alistair. 'And what do you think, Your Majesty, do these men deserve mercy?'

'For robbing people fleeing the darkspawn?' he asked, and then he shook his head. 'No.'

'M-m-majesty?' sputtered the leader.

'Yes,' laughed Daylen. 'Why you've just had the pleasure of attempting to rob King Alistair of Ferelden. Now, no doubt you'll have the pleasure of dying by his sword.'

The group of thieves exchanged a look before they turned tail and attempted to speed off towards the village, bumping into one another in their haste to run from the fearsome group. So much was their haste that a few of them actually fell and Alistair shook his head at the ineptitude displayed but the men really couldn't be left to get away with their crimes. Daylen seemed to think much the same as he threw the flame he had been nurturing. The resulting explosion sent them men flying, most already dead from the searing heat. It was a little harsh, but they wouldn't have gone down without a fight. Alistair drew his sword walking towards the men, the leader of whom was lying on the floor, not burnt but he had been thrown some distance.

'Please,' said the leader, a lot less confident now he had the sword of a King at his throat, 'we're only trying to get by before the darkspawn get by.'

Alistair shook his head. 'Getting by doesn't include stealing from innocent people fleeing for their lives,' he said before he brought his sword up and dispatched the man. His sword swiftly found it's mark in the man's chest before he pulled it back out with a grim look on his face. Death was never pretty and he didn't much like the idea of playing executioner, but he was the King of a Lawless Land at the moment.

'Well now, this is interesting,' said Morrigan as she started looking at the caravans. 'Perhaps you'll feel less distressed about dispatching those idiots when you see this.' She pulled back the canvas covering revealing several dead bodies, clearly of those who had fought the men.

'I'm not feeling distress,' replied Alistair as he walked over. 'And certainly not now.' He sighed heavily. 'Kill a King and every rag tag band of misfits think they have a right to do what they want. We should get them down to the village so they can be given proper Rites.' Then he paused catching a glint of metal. Despite the smell, he heaved himself up into the carriage and pushed the bodies aside.

'What is it?' asked Daylen from the ground.

'Seems they were more better equipped than we gave them credit for,' said Alistair, examining the bloodied face of a Templar.

'Twould certainly seem so,' agreed Morrigan. 'But the plus side is, there is enough here to see us reasonably supplied to this Tower you insist on travelling to.'

'We can't keep this,' said Alistair, 'it's been taken from those who need it more.'

Morrigan placed her hands on her hips. 'And what is the basis of your definition of needing it more?' she asked him. 'King or not, it is not as if you are swimming in coin given that all of Ferelden will no likely think you dead soon enough. There will be no point to anyone having this if they are swallowed up and eaten by the Blight. You will do better to take it for yourself and use it towards this fool errand that we must go on. We will not get far without supplies and supplies cost money.'

Alistair opened his mouth to protest but she made a horrible kind of sense. They would need supplies; food, poultices, repairs to armour and weapons may be needed and clothing would be needed over time. He shut his mouth and looked at Daylen.

'She has a point,' he said, siding with the witch. 'As much as I hate to admit it and we'd probably do more good if we were trade with others than to just hand it out. Probably create more of a mob if we started throwing coin about.'

'Which won't be good for our inconspicuous movements,' he sighed heavily not liking the idea, but seeing the merit.

They had to survive, so with that in mind, he started rounding up the coin while Morrigan and Daylen stowed what they could in their packs. Morrigan was right about another thing, soon all of Ferelden would think him dead, and it was unlikely that his Royal Seal would be of any use to them, in fact it could prove out right dangerous. He knew that while the Landsmeet had bent to Cailan's wishes, some of the nobles had done so reluctantly whispering that Maric's bastard had no right for a place in succession even though Maric himself had wished it to be so until Cailan produced an heir. Loghain had been one of those nobles, first and forefront with his displeasure for reasons few, including Alistair, had understood. They had been even less impressed when Cailan had called the Landsmeet to accept Alistair as their King should he die in battle. In a long ceremony, he and Elissa had vowed to uphold the laws of the land should Cailan fall and the Teryn's, Arl's and Bann's of Ferelden had sworn fealty to them as the King and Queen in Waiting, rendering a coronation unneeded and for show. Elissa had explained after that it was not an unusual practice in times of war; it would stop the Kingdom from falling apart and more Arls and Bann's liked him than did not. Of course, it hadn't worked out quiet like that. Everyone thought he was dead so being King would do little to help until he could firmly establish that he wasn't dead.

The small town was a mess; a depressing hell hole of despair. Hundreds of farmers and Chasind Wilders had fled north looking for shelter only to find an undefended village with only a handful of Templar's at the doors of the Chantry. Alistair had never seen such hopelessness watching people walk around in such wide eyed disbelief; tales of darkspawn ravaging everything as it relentlessly marched towards the Bannorn. It was with surprise he watched Morrigan hand over ten silvers and chivvy a small Wilder boy to the Chantry. She later claimed it was because the child was annoying her but there was a lingering softness in her features that she hadn't known to hide at the time. The brash swamp witch had heart. Alistair looked away, making his way towards the Chantry.

'I'm looking for Ser Bryant, I understand he is in charge here?' he asked of the Templar stood at the doors.

The Chantry Knight nodded. 'Inside,' he said stepping aside.

Ser Bryant was stood in the middle of the Chantry giving orders as Alistair approached slowly not wanting to disturb him until he was done. The knight looked up and nodded to the disguised King as he acknowledged him stood there. Alistair found himself looking down at his breastplate ensuring that his emblem was still largely hidden; already he had heard he had been hacked to pieces by no fewer than twenty darkspawn. In the eyes of Ferelden he was as dead as a doornail. The Templar's dismissed, Bryant turned his attention to Alistair.

'Hello, there, how can I help you?'

'The bandits on the southern road,' started Alistair.

'Oh for the love of the Maker how many times must we drive them off?' muttered the Templar in exasperation.

'They're dead,' said Alistair. 'Myself and my companions killed them when they tried to rob us.'

'It's true Ser Bryant,' agreed a Templar who walked over after hearing what was being said. 'It happened so quickly we didn't even have time to leave our posts.'

Bryant raised his eyebrows at Alistair as his fellow Templar bowed. 'Impressive,' said Bryant, 'you have my thanks. They have been plaguing the road since the army first came through to go south. Was there something else I could help with? You don't look like any of the refugees or the knights of Redcliffe.'

'The Knights of Redcliffe?' repeated Alistair slowly, frowning as he did. Arl Eamon's men had not been at Ostagar so it begged the question what were they doing here. 'What would they be doing here, if you have any idea that is?'

The Templar looked over in the direction of where one knight, baring the heraldry of Redcliffe was stood pouring over the titles in the shelves in an alcove. 'The Arl is apparently unwell and they search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes; the Arlessa's idea.' The tone of his voice expressing what he thought of that idea.

'At a time like this?' exclaimed Alistair. He shook his head. 'Darkspawn coming from the South, Loghain up to Maker knows what and she has them running after a myth?'

'Quite,' agreed Bryant. 'Still, it is her decision, I have more pressing matters to deal with, such as getting as many people out of Lothering before the darkspawn arrive.'

'It is just you here?' Alistair enquired as the door behind him opened. He glanced back to see Daylen walking in, leaning against his stick as he walked towards them. 'Where is the Bann?'

'Left with Loghain when his men marched through, word is that Loghain is to make himself regent when he returns to Denerim,' continued Bryant leaving Alistair to glower slightly.

Daylen reached them. 'Has there been any other news?' he asked. 'Surely you know more than just want is happening in the South.'

Bryant nodded. 'I don't have much time for news from elsewhere, with all these people to move on,' he said. 'But I assume you mean news from the north, as that is surely the direction you will be travelling here?'

'I have business in a great deal many areas, Ser Bryant, but our travels will take us north,' he said. 'But the news from the North is concerning, and my friend, it might be difficult for you to hear.'

'Rumour is that Highever has fallen, to who or what, that is unclear,' said Bryant. 'I'm afraid I can't give you any more information than that.'

Alistair felt everything drain out of him leaving him numb. 'Unclear?' he asked. 'If Highever has fallen-'

'Then it is a great loss to the Kingdom,' said Bryant, his voice slightly impatient. 'But I have the people of Lothering to protect, and I will do my duty in getting them out before I turn my concerns to the rest of the Kingdom.'

'So nice of you to have that choice,' muttered Alistair before turning back to Daylen. 'We must travel north immediately, I need to get to the bottom of this, but there are other concerns, Arl Eamon of Redcliffe is reported to be unwell and his knights chasing legends.'

Daylen nodded his head. 'I have heard talk of this Urn of Sacred Ashes within the village.' He sighed before turning his attention back to the Templar. 'Thank you, Ser Bryant, but my friend and I need to discuss our next steps in private.'

'As you wish,' said the Templar bowing and turning to leave.

'One moment,' said Alistair calling back the Templar, 'those Bandits, they hadn't just stolen from passers-by, but some had been killed, including a Templar. We couldn't pull the caravan into town, but perhaps you would see to their last Rites and a fitting burial?'

'Indeed,' said Bryant before walking away, muttering in disgust before calling some Templar's over.

Alistair was looking at the Knight of Redcliffe, catching the side profile and recognising him as Ser Donnell. They had played together as children, long before Alistair had ever been King Maric's bastard son. As Donnell had taken up his duties as a squire they had grown apart with the realisation that Alistair was to be nothing more than a stable boy and he a knight but he had never been unkind though those changing years. Like Alistair, Donnell had grown and changed but he was still recognisable as the boy he had once knew.

'Give me a second,' said Alistair as he walked off. 'Ser Donnell?' he asked.

The knight turned full around, and Alistair watched as he looked over him, then his eyes widened in surprise. 'Alistair, I mean-' he stumbled.

Alistair shook his head holding up a hand waving away Donnell's thoughts. 'Alistair is just fine,' he said, with a smile holding out his hand to Donnell who took with a strong shake.

'It's good to see you,' he exclaimed, 'I had feared, with the rumour circulating. I am grateful Loghain was wrong.'

'About myself at least,' said Alistair, 'but the King is dead,' he said quietly, 'and now there is rumour of trouble in Highever.'

Donnell nodded solemnly. 'Yes, but word from the North is patchy and unreliable,' he confirmed. 'I have not heard much of what has happened there, but surely your Lady was in Denerim?'

Alistair shook his head. 'No,' he said quietly, 'she was take charge of the Terynir while the Teryn and Lord Fergus were at Ostagar. Fergus arrived with Highever's men, but the Teryn did not.'

'That is grievous news, indeed my friend, then I suppose you are to make haste to Highever?' enquired Donnell.

'Why do you ask?' asked Alistair looking up at the knight.

'I had hoped you would be willing to come to Redcliffe, with the Arl ill' explained Donnell, 'but the life of the Princess takes precedence over that.'

Alistair nodded. 'Yes, thank you,' he said his voice having grown a little distant, 'but I had reason to see the Arl, so Ser Bryant speaks the true, Eamon is ill?'

Donnell heaved a sigh. 'Yes, on his deathbed even, so he may yet be dead,' explained the Knight.

'But when did this happen? A little over a week before we had word that he was planning to march,' said Alistair.

'Indeed, but the very morning we were due to, he would not wake,' replied Donnell. 'It has been over two weeks now since he fell ill.'

Alistair mentally counted up the days; it would take the messenger near to a week to reach the King at Ostagar and the grievous battle had happened several days ago now. It seemed impossible that so much time could have passed; Alistair rubbed his forehead. Everything was stacking up in his mind, event after event, attempting to assert a timeline that suggested a bigger plan had been in motion almost as soon as the Wardens had announced the Blight.

'Thank you, Donnell,' he said, 'you should not remain here, old friend, the Darkspawn are not far from here and likely to swallow Lothering whole.'

Donnell frowned at the Prince. 'Is there nothing you can do?'

'Teryn Loghain has betrayed myself and the King,' said Alistair, 'the only thing I can do is tell the people of Lothering to leave,' he explained. 'Myself and Daylen have a plan, but it will only work if we can bring Loghain to justice and for that I need Teryn Cousland and Arl Eamon but….' He looked at Donnell. 'Could Loghain be behind Eamon's illness? It happened over quickly?'

'Indeed,' muttered Donnell. 'It is a disquieting thought but where would he have found the time?'

Alistair hummed in agreement. 'I should leave you to your quest,' he said.

'Yes, I intend to return to Redcliffe, though I have little to show for my efforts,' he admitted quietly.

'Donnell, you are a knight, not a bloody scholar,' replied Alistair. 'It was foolish of the Arlessa to send the knights out and leave the Castle unprotected.'

Donnell chuckled. 'You're letting your dislike of the Arlessa show through there, Highness.' He bowed. 'May the Maker shine on your path.'

'And on yours,' replied Alistair before he turned to make his way over to Daylen who was feigning looking at the tomes in the shelves nearby. 'Eavesdropping?' he enquired of the mage. 'You certainly aren't searching for a book.'

Daylen turned his unseeing eyes on Alistair. 'It seems Loghain has a pretty solid plan in place, does it not?' he asked quietly. 'Killing the last two Theirin's and naming himself Regent.'

'Yes, but why?' asked Alistair. 'Why would he do it?'

'Power hungry?' suggested Daylen. 'Do we stay with the course of action we decided in the Wilds?'

Alistair nodded as they made their way to the doors of Chantry. 'Yes,' he said, 'you still need supplies from the Tower and I need clearer news of what has happened in Highever.'

'I'm sure it isn't as bad as being made out,' said Daylen in a reassuring manner. 'The news has probably gotten mixed in with rumours from the South. Most likely there have been problem with folk fleeing Ferelden. Highever is a port town is it not?'

He appreciated Daylen's attempt to gloss over what had happened to make it seem not so bad, but Alistair felt disquieted by it. Such problems would not need the Teryn, particularly if he had left Elissa in charge. She was a competent administrator of her Father's lands; the Teryn had told him that his daughter had watched over Highever on several occasions when he had been called to Denerim. Despite his concerns he managed to effect a brighter voice for Daylen as he agreed that his theory was most likely correct. However, Alistair could see the lingering doubt in Daylen's expression but the Mage didn't voice any further reassurances to the King. With a shake of his head, Alistair led the way to the tavern.


	4. The Templar and the Mage IV

_**23rd Harvestmere, 9;30. Kinloch Hold, Ferelden. **_

They left Lothering with little more than a ripple of presence, taking in some news before leaving for the mages tower. The journey north became more and more disheartening; with each mile they travelled news of Highever became bleaker and bleaker pushing Alistair into more brooding silence. Daylan tried to offer solace but Alistair didn't care for it. Now on the open road, he didn't hide his heraldry and more than a few people recognised it, passing their condolences on amd their surprise he was alive. Merchants had given them news that Highever had fallen to Arl Rendon Howe; that the disliked Arl was putting it about that the Couslands were to sell out Ferelden to the Orlesians, that he was attacked by the Cousland army when he challenged the Teryn. But most importantly every one, the Teryn, Teryna, Lady Oriana, little Lord Oren and Elissa were all dead. Massacred in a surprise attack in the dead of night, at least that is what those who didn't support Howe were saying. Howe's men would have been let in under a banner of friendship, the Teryn and Arl having fought side by side with his own father in the rebellion against Orlais.

Thus this same story was repeated day after day with more gory details etched in and Alistair knew he was only asking for the information to punish himself more with each passing day. His mind echoed a thousand things that he could have done to prevent this; like ordering Elissa to remain in Denerim or to have seen something like this coming but it was all for nothing. Everyone was dead and all the wishing in the world would not change that. Many of those they spoke to also offered their opinions on the matter and the consensus seemed to be that it was a great tragedy to Ferelden. Alistair had always known the Couslands were a popular family but he'd never seen it first-hand among the populace. There were many concerns being voiced on the road; already Howe had increased the levies on the people of the Terynir and the travelling merchants had seen their duties increased. A few pointed out that with the Princess dead so to was the last hope of the Theirin line being continued as the Queen was without child. Anora had long been written off as unable to bear an heir to Cailan a long time ago; part of the reason he had been rescued from the Chantry by Cailan. He learnt something of how the people of Ferelden saw him as well. He surprised to learn that he was a well-received addition to both the Royal and Cousland families.

It was a bit of light in the darkness but only a shard. His entire family was dead. Cailan left to rot on a battlefield and now the Couslands, the family who had taken him in and helped him learn his duty as Prince and heir to the throne were gone to dust at the hand of a man who sort to advance himself through murder and lies. Neither Daylen nor Morrigan really spoke to him as his mood grew blacker, he couldn't honestly say he was one for company in light of all that had happen anyway. In a short conversation with Daylen, he knew he had sworn he would avenge the Couslands along with Cailan, that Howe and Loghain would both die traitor's death. But everything else was hazy with his grief and remained so until they reach the Tower.

The Circle of Magi in Ferelden was housed in a great tower that rose out of Lake Calanhad like a 'giant phallus' Morrigan had observed. Once a bridge had gone out of the tower, but it had not been maintained. Alistair assumed it was to keep the Mages and magic in given that the Chantry's secondary plan with Mages seemed to be to lock the door and throw away the key. He didn't really see that it was fair, the Maker himself had gifted Humans and Elves with magic, yet the Chantry had twisted Andraste's words to give them the power to maintain an iron hold over them. Or at least that was how he saw it. Alistair had only been here once before, seven perhaps eight months ago, to witness a Harrowing so that he could see the important work Templar's truly do in protecting Thedas from Mages. Only it had gone horribly wrong and the mage had opted for Tranquility. It made him sick to his stomach that someone could be subjected to such a horrific ritual and be forever changed into an emotionless shell. He had decided a long time ago that he really wasn't Templar material but the Grand Cleric would never let him leave. He'd asked once but he could only assume he had to stay so that he didn't have a sleuth of bastard heirs to challenge Cailan's legitimate heirs; ironic that the Kingdom now needed those bastard heirs to keep the Theirin line alive.

Quick questioning at the Spoiled Princess revealed that the Ferryman had recently been relieved of his duties by the Knight-Commander and that something had happened in the tower but no one knew what had actually happened. Either way no one was allowed in and no one was allowed out, although the latter wasn't an unusual state of affairs. The Templars were being very tight lipped apparently, which wasn't unusual for the rather secretive order in all fairness. Alistair thanked the old ferryman for his help before sitting up at the bar.

'Is there any other news? From the North, I mean?' he asked, setting about his daily ritual torture.

'Nought you probably ain't heard already,' said the barkeep as he polished a glass with a questionably clean rag. 'Had some of Howe's men in here just last night asking if we'd had any staying who were fleeing the Northern lands. Thought you were one of them when you first came in myself. '

Alistair frowned, this he hadn't heard. 'Who would they be pursuing?' he enquired taking his cup and a mouthful of ale.

'Survivors no doubt,' replied the Barkeep with a shrug. 'But it don't make no sense to me, word is no one survived but Howe's men are in a tizzy about something or someone. Offered me rather a lot of gold to make sure they're the first ones to know of anyone fleeing.'

He ran his hand through his hair. There was a possibility, he supposed, that Fergus was still alive, he wasn't at the main battle but if Ostagar had been as overrun as suggested, Alistair doubted his brother-in-law survival but it was the closest explaination he could think off. The other possibility was two difficult to hope for; but if anyone could survive in the wilderness of Ferelden, avoiding pursuers then _she_ could. Elissa knew the Northern Lands like no one else, able to track and transverse the land after years of being taught how to survive should Ferelden fall to war. Had she gotten away? Had the Teryn ordered his daughter away from her home so that she might live? Alistair could certainly see Bryce Cousland telling Elissa that she had to survive and do her duty to the Kingdom she had sworn to protect not just as Cousland, but as a Princess and Queen-in-Waiting. He didn't think he should pin any hope on the idea though. Nevertheless, just a spark of hope had ignited itself despite himself.

Outside Daylen and Morrigan were debating the strange tingling sense that had caught all three of them; Alistair had taken up going through all his old meditations after seeing darkspawn using magic after leaving Flemeth thus regaining a sensitivity to magic being used around them. He had explained to Daylen he was taking it up again for that reason. The Mage took the news stoically but never actually protested. He vowed to be careful how and when he used the talents he had at his disposal least Daylen turned on him. While the Mage and he got on well, there was always an edge of distrust given that Alistair could render Daylen helpless in mere seconds. Even if Daylen had managed to cast his spell before being smote, Alistair had the power to throw it off and then attack.

'What did you get out of old Kestler?' asked Daylen as he approached.

'Silent, stoic Templar's being all shut mouth about whatever is going on,' replied Alistair. 'What do you think?'

'The veil here has been torn,' said Morrigan impatiently. 'It is weak and its essence is radiating out far.'

Alistair swallowed and looked out at the Tower. 'They may need help; if the Templar's are barring the way then it is not good.'

'Right, well any bright ideas at how to make that moronic whelp let us past?' asked Daylen. 'When I told him I was a Grey Warden he said he was the Queen of Antiva.'

'Put a wig on him and he bears an uncanny resemblance,' observed Alistair looking at the vaguely familiar man. 'Have you tried a bit of old fashioned bribery?'

'You cannot seriously be suggesting we throw gold at him?' asked Daylen crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. 'He's a moron, I remember him from when I was trapped in that infernal tower. Leachy, grabby type so a few of the ladies said and most certainly not taking his vows of Chastity seriously.' Then he shrugged, 'still for the first time they've not actively been forcing mages into the tower, so silver lining.'

'Templar's vow such things?' enquired Morrigan. 'Certainly explains a lot,' she remarked pointedly looking at Alistair.

He glared back at her whilst helplessly fighting back the blush that was crawling across his face; he didn't need this sort of shit from a swamp witch on a good day and he hadn't had a good day in months. He turned his back on her and looked at the Templar again, really looking this time. 'Damn it,' he swore under his breath.

He knew the guy; took his final vows a little under a year ago. Leachy, grabby type did not cover the licentious Carroll who frequently climbed out the window at the Denerim Compound to visit the Pearl with his stipend. He felt sorry for anyone who caught his eye; the Chantry probably thought they were punishing him by removing the temptation but even Alistair knew that relations between Templar and Mages were rife. It was a power thing, he assumed and it sickened him.

'What is it?' asked Daylen, turn in his direction at Alistair's curse.

'I trained with him,' said Alistair in an undertone. 'Believe me when I say we could just chuck him in the lake, steal the boat and no one would mourn him.'

Daylen raised his eyebrows. 'I can't believe I'm about to say this, but surely it would be unwise to annoy the Templar's before we know more of what is going on?'

'One good old fashioned bribe coming up,' said Alistair with faux cheeriness as he walked over to where the Templar was stood.

The two mages fell in behind him as they made back their way back to the pontoon. It rocked with the weight of the heavily armoured Alistair causing Carroll to wobble dangerously.

'Not you again,' said Carroll in his nasal tone. 'I've already told you once to beat it.'

Daylen shrugged. 'It is really quite urgent we get across, we have business with the First Enchanter, and Maker forbid I have to point this out to you, but I'm am a Mage,' he said to the Templar.

'That so, then why are you out here alone without an escort?' asked Carroll. 'You could have gotten those robes anywhere.'

Alistair shook his head. 'He really is as dumb as he looks, isn't it?'

The Templar glared, then his eyes narrowed. 'Well look who it is, little Allie.'

The Prince rolled his eyes at the Templar. 'Nice, very original, well done for having come up with such an inventive, new nickname in all this time. Must have been really taxing.'

'Heard you got made a Prince, where they desperate?'

'Not as desperate as the day the Chantry let you take your final vows, how's that holding up, by the way?' he enquired crossing his arms over his chest. 'Now, as you have so helpfully pointed out that I am a Prince and as you quite clearly aren't the Queen of Antiva, I suggest you let us past.'

Carroll crossed his arms over his armoured chest. 'No,' he said. 'My orders quite clearly state that no one is to cross.'

Daylen let a smile cross his face. 'But surely the Knight Commander will understand, I mean, this isn't just the Prince you are refusing, but the King of Ferelden. Gregoir won't be happy that you ignored a direct request from the King.'

Carroll looked from Daylen, to Alistair who nodded just the once, then back to Daylen.

'Him? The King of Ferelden?' asked Carroll before roaring with laughter.

Alistair raised an eyebrow before taking two steps forward, lifted his leg and kicked Carroll into the lake.

The doors slammed home with a resounding snap of finality. The Templar's beyond the door didn't think that three people would so much as make a dent in the abominations that had overrun the Tower, but they had to try. The Veil was so thin it was almost as if Daylen could see; fuzzy features flitted on the faces of his two companions instead of empty shadows. But there was more, something he had never heard before; a rushing wind almost screaming in his mind like a dangerous song. He attempted to shut it out but only managed to turn it down. It was better than nothing. Alistair moved to his side.

'I don't know how much you can see,' he said, for want of a better term to describe his abilities, 'but the corridor is littered with bodies.'

'Mages?' asked Daylen coming to a standstill.

'And Templars,' said Alistair grimly. 'They tried to flee only to find the doors closed. They were massacred, all of them.'

Daylen felt a sickness rise from his stomach to his throat. 'Do you think we'll find survivors?'

There was a silence for a moment. 'I don't know,' replied Alistair. 'I am not hopeful, I'm sorry, I know these people were your family.'

The Mage snorted somewhat, then shook his head. 'Not really,' he said.

He hadn't had anyone he had been close to since his apprenticeship then after losing his sight, well, it was hard to trust and easier to hide hoping to be forgotten about. He'd been written off as a lost cause, but here he was now, one of the only chances left to Ferelden's Circle before the Templar's wiped them out. If there was anyone still alive, but Alistair didn't sound hopeful.

'It is quite a mess,' commented Alistair, 'why didn't they open the doors.'

'They wouldn't have known who was infected and who was not,' said Daylen bitterly, 'so rather than save a few and deal with any abominations later they just left them here to die.'

He angled his staff, using it to feel out the floor ahead of him so he would not walk into any bodies but in the end Alistair suggested he remain where he was while he and Morrigan, much to her disgust, cleared him a path. He wondered who lined the edges of the corridor; while he had isolated himself from the Mages at large there were some who had breached his defences; Jowan, Maker spit on him and Neria, ah how he missed Neria. Not that he had ever told her of his feelings; he would not have the Templar's use anything against him again.

'You should check the bodies,' said Daylen, 'they might have some supplies to help us. I am sorely in need of Lyrium.'

There was no protest as the King and apostate started going through the bodies, the jangle of mental and glass suggesting they had found money as well as Lyrium. As they worked he heard Alistair muttered the words to send the departed souls to the Maker's side. Daylen vowed he would find Uldred and slay him for his crime against the Mages which only enforced the Chantry's view that they should be leashed. At this rate, the Divine would be taking advice from the Qun on dealing with Mages. He had read about how the Qunari leashed their mages and took their tongues when he had been young. Daylen wasn't sure which method was least humane.

'Maker knows what the Templar's are going to do with all these bodies,' said Alistair with a heavy sigh.

'Will they not be sent back to their families?' enquired Morrigan, an odd note in her voice.

Daylen shrugged. 'Those who still have family to speak of; others will only be mourned by whoever survived here, if any did.'

'Which isn't likely to be any one, the Templar's won't mourn the mages,' said Alistair. 'And none of them have families to be sent back to, neither do many of the Templar's. It's rare for them to have family.'

Daylen shook his head. 'Come, there is little we can do for them as the Templar's will not even open the doors to us again.'

He pointed down the hall. 'This way, there is only one route around the tower, come.' Daylen held his staff at the ready, and he knew the other two would be poised for battle as well. 'The main library is just around this…' A great flash of light flew him off his feet and then the mage felt the distinct tang of Templar disruption.

'You will stay your hand.'

That voice he remembered; both from here and Ostagar. 'Alistair, stop,' he yelled. Wynne was too well respected within Ferelden's Circle not to be someone he would dismiss even if his only contact with her had been brief. He held his hand up signalling he meant no harm. 'We came here to help, Wynne,' he said after getting to his feet and clipping his staff on his back, around him he heard his companions sheath their weapons following his example.

'Thank you,' she replied softly, 'I thought Gregoir had given the order to attack.'

'He's requested the Right to Annulment, but it isn't here yet,' explained Alistair, 'but it could arrive at any minute.'

'Then he thinks the Circle is lost,' she muttered sadly.

Daylen nodded but it wasn't wholly the case, there were others with Wynne, through his sight from the Fade he could sense others, children as well as fully fledged mages. They had done well in saving the children, he imagined they were terrified and had even seen some of their friends die. They would never been the same again.

'Surely if we make the Circle safe, Gregoir will take that into consideration, he is not a rash man,' continued Wynne.

'He will only take the word of the First Enchanter,' said Daylen. 'He was quiet clear about that. We must fine what has become of Irving.'

'I saw him only when the attack began,' explained Wynne, 'there was such disarray. I was with the children at the time, I wanted to get them to safety.'

'How did you survive, there were so many dead behind us,' said Alistair.

Wynne sighed. 'We came in behind them. I erected this barrier to protect us from the evil within the tower, but then found we were trapped as abominations had gotten to the apprentice quarters, so we fought. It was wearing.'

'I can well imagine,' said Daylen with a nod of his head. 'Wynne, if you will remain with your fellows here, we'll do what we can beyond.'

'Absolutely not,' flared the spirit healing Mage. 'I will be coming with you. I will look Uldred in the face for what he has done.'

'Are you sure that is wise?' asked Alistair, every syllable was etched with concern. 'You're looking over tired and there will be much to deal with ahead of us.'

'I am old enough to decide for myself, young man,' said Wynne, 'although I appreciate your concern. Petra and Kinnon can look after the children, if we kill all we find, and then nothing should get passed to harm them.'

'If you are certain, I don't doubt we'll need the help,' conceded Alistair.

Daylen nodded. 'And I believe I am right when I say I believe you are an excellent healer as well? Our supplies are low, I had hoped to restock.'

'I will do what I can for you all,' agreed Wynne. 'So, shall I?'

'The sooner we go the more likely we are to find survivors, if there are any to be found,' said Daylen, grabbing his staff before he felt a hand on his other arm. He looked up.

'Look after her,' said a quiet female voice, possibly Petra, 'she was hurt, in a fight with a demon. I thought she was,' her voice caught, 'I thought she had died for me.'

Daylen looked over in direct he knew Wynne had gone; he hadn't noticed it before but if he tilted his head to the side a little there was an odd aura where she was as if the Fade clung to her giving her more definition than anyone else. 'Don't worry,' he mummered, 'we'll look after her.'

But there was something different about Wynne.


	5. The Templar and the Mage V

A/N: Okay I've been over this one a few times, but I am not certain I got everything. Please let me know if you spot any errors. I hope it's okay. This was one of the harder chapters to rewrite and mould together. I think it was about three chapters in the original version.

_**24th Harvestmere, 9:30. Kinloch Hold, Ferelden. **_

Days had passed, or at least Neria Surana hoped it was days it would not do to be so hungry after a few hours. It was near impossible to tell how much time had passed in the small broom closet but she hoped it wouldn't be long until help came. At least that is what she kept telling herself, truth was that if anyone entered the Circle it was likely to set about razing it to the ground. Neria leant back against the wall and shut her eyes but that only resulted in her seeing the horrific images she had run from. There had been tension since the Mages returned from Ostagar; news that the Wardens, the King, Prince, over half of Ferelden's army were dead had arrived with the injured, drained Mages and it depended on who you asked as to what had happened. Some were claiming the Warden's had betrayed the King and Loghain had pulled his men in time; others that Loghain had pulled his men and left the King to die. All Neria knew was that Daylen was at that battle because of her. He had stood forward telling Gregoir that he had been down in basement. He had unknowingly signed his death warrant by accepting the Grey Warden Commander's offer.

She had never told him how she felt; he was always so distance, holding her at arms distance not letting her close enough to break through that wall he had put up after the White Spire. Had she been with him there, then the Templar responsible for Daylen's injuries would have been on his knees in agonising pain before he could summon enough willpower to put her down. The thought of such vengeance tore through her, heating her blood making her feel powerful. Then the image of Kaylee being cut down tore caught the corner of her mind; such young genius taken without mercy. The young apprentice would have achieved so much if she had passed her Harrowing. All her strength left her as an unearthly scream echoed down the hall and fear took over again. She grabbed her staff but she didn't really have any strength left in her.

Neria would never forget the deathly sound of an abomination meeting its end; it was a sign of hope and she shifted to try so she could peer through the keyhole. However, the angle was awkward and instead of just peering she fell through the door with a squeak but not before she thought she heard voices. Admittedly she had only wanted to check in case it was Templar's although attempting to hide from them would only result in living a few minutes longer. At least if she presented herself to the Templar's she might have a chance of arguing her case to them. She had resisted the demons that swarmed her even has her teeth had clattered in her mouth with the force of her defiance. She would never resist another encounter.

She stood in the corridor drawing as much will to her as possible as the sound of steps reached her. Neria was ready but she looked completely unarmed. Shadows cast in the door way ahead; then, impossible, he was dead. Like the rest of his Order, Uldred had said so, Wynne had said so, even Karl had said so. But there stood Daylen Amell in all his darkly handsome glory; it was a trick.

'Stand down fell beast,' she yelled summoning fire to her hands.

Neria threw the flame just as 'Daylen' summoned a freezing blast from his staff; the two spells hit in an explosion of fire and ice that sent her flying she caught the full force of the shock wave from her exploding fire ball.

'Utter waste of energy, Neria,' said Daylen as he walked towards her, the click of his staff in line with every other step. 'You're supposed to save that for the Abominations, there is more than enough of them to go around without draining your mana on me.'

'Uh-huh, you can't fool me, you're dead, you got taken by the Warden Commander and then you died with all the other Wardens,' she protested, backing away from him. 'Wynne said so.'

'Neria,' said Wynne quietly.

Neria shook her head. 'You won't have me, you won't,' she screamed at them. 'I won't let you, I stopped you before,' she continued getting her feet. 'I will stop you again.'

Daylen was closer to her now and she looked up at him. She blinked once, twice, three times. 'Daylen?' she questions as her eyes flicked over his glassy orbs. Before, that tempestuous vision had been the Daylen she remembered with sea blue eyes now she saw his glassy eyes. For the first time in her life she looked at the whitened orbs and was glad, over glad in fact. 'Daylen,' she sighed throwing herself into his arms. 'I'm sorry, the visions, the Demon's, I thought you had been sent her to test me, again.'

He squeezed her tightly. 'I had feared, but you are well?'

'Battered and a little hungry,' she said, 'but okay, I think, I hope.' She looked over his shoulder and took in the strange group behind him, Wynne notwithstanding. 'Who are your friends? What's going on?'

Daylen let her go and turned in the direction of his eclectic group of followers. 'We came here to get help from the Circle, against the Blight,' he explained. 'I'm the only Warden left in Ferelden.'

'Surely not?' breathed Neria.

He nodded. 'Were it not for Alistair I would have been dead before the rest of my Order,' he pointed to the golden blonde man in Silver armour who bowed when he was introduced, smiling warmly at the mage. 'And this is Morrigan. Her mother has given me and Alistair much assistance, now she helps us at her behest.' He smiled sadly at her. 'Neria, we cannot linger. Will you come with us?'

'F-f-fight those things?' she asked her voice shaking despite herself. 'No, I don't think I could resist again.'

'Again?' asked Wynne.

She turned to Wynne. 'They tried to take me, tempt me, but I'm weak now,' she explained. 'If they tried to take me now, I don't think I could, you'd have to…. kill me.'

Daylen shook his head. 'We can protect you,' he said, 'there are plenty of us here, and Alistair, he was trained in the Chantry to become a Templar but didn't actually become one. He's managed to do in the last hour what an entire tower full of fully trained, devout Templar's couldn't.'

'A Templar?' questioned Neria looking from Alistair to Daylen. 'With you?'

He shrugged. 'Strange times, Neria, and he really isn't that bad.'

'Thanks,' muttered Alistair as he pulled a biscuit from his pack offering it to the weakened mage.

'Come with us, Neria,' he said. 'We need all the help we can get.'

She took the offered biscuit and broke it with a thoughtful expression. She knew she could leave Daylen to get into trouble on his own. Her eyes travelled over his companions; the Templar and an apostate. It was an odd combination, but Daylen didn't seem to be at odds with either person. 'If I die, I'll spend the rest of my life haunting you,' she said, throwing a biscuit in her mouth, and a clouded look crossed his face. She swallowed and wondered to herself, why did she see these things at the worse possible moment.

Well this wasn't good.

Daylen looked around the environment, fully seeing, eyes open. It wasn't somewhere he was familiar with. Demons of Fade tapped into your memories as a rule, creating space that was familiar and real; it was all the better for drawing their victim in. It was an advantage Daylen supposed he had over the demons; there was nowhere he had sound remember in detail. He had vague recollections of the Circle Tower, the Spire and Kirkwall but they couldn't be used to put together a cohesive picture. He walked down the great pathway to a courtyard ahead where he could make out a figure stood waiting for him. A memory from the distant past asserted itself placing the woman; Revka Amell, the woman who had left him on the doorstep of the Kirkwall Gallows with tears in her eyes after a blazing row with her uncle.

'My dear boy,' she said as he drew closer, 'look at what you have become, we're all so proud.' She stepped down to meet him, a slender hand reaching out to. 'When we heard the news in Kirkwall, we were so pleased, your Uncle Aristide is set to name you Kirkwall's Champion.'

Aristide was a name that left a bitter taste of bile in his mouth; Revka's uncle and head of the Noble House of Amell, poised to become the Viscount of Kirkwall were it not for a boy born of magic. He was the man who had pushed and pushed Revka to place the boy in Circle calling it a sin that his family should bare a Mage. He looked at his mother with her flowing brown hair and matching eyes feeling a sense of peace wash over him that he immediately caught and held back. Revka was dead, he had been given the news when he was thirteen; within the Circle there was a second Amell, another child of Revka. When the second child had been taken by the Circle, Revka had thrown herself off the walls of Kirkwall's Hightown, plummeting to her death in Lowtown. That had been nearly fifteen years ago.

'Oh mama,' he said softly, stepping out of her reach. 'Such pretty words you weave, what I would not give to be welcomed back into the fold,' he reached around for his staff, 'but you are long gone to dust and the Blight still spreads inching over Ferelden, closer to Kirkwall and the rest of Thedas.'

She laughed prettily. 'Oh, my boy, still those nightmares plague you, you defeated the Blight.'

Daylen called his will to him, pulling together rage and ice. 'Sorry, mama, but you cannot hold me,' he said sadly before releasing a great wave over his mother, once iced he flicked his staff hitting her and it shattered. 'Nice try,' he said, 'but you only have a history with which to try to hold me, demon. It will take more cunning than that,' he yelled as a blinding flash of light hit him and threw him back.

He landed somewhere more familiar, the Tower of Magi, he recognised it from his memories, but it was not his memory he realised as he stepped closer to the books. He had no memory of titles of books; in his arrogance as a younger man he had thought reading beneath him seeking only to extend his powers as a battle mage. He looked around, seeing a familiar head bent over parchment and books; she was his only true memory, the beautiful Neria.

'You should put that down, work to do Neria,' he said, he always used to say that to her.

'Shhh,' she hissed, 'I'm hiding, they can't see me if I don't look up.'

Daylen looked around seeing the room was now lined with Templar's, stood, helmeted and watching all like creepy statues.

'They can see you,' said Neria.

He looked back at the bowed head of Neria. 'Since when were you afraid of Templars?'

'It's not my fear,' she said, 'it's yours, goading us to fight.'

'We can fight them Neria,' he said, 'together, we're not in the Tower.'

'I know,' she whispered, 'but they are too strong, I told you that I was weak, but you didn't listen. I'm a meal on legs for the demons that stalk these halls, but Daylen knows best.'

Daylen strode around the desk and took Neria shoulders, turning her in her chair to face him before lifting her eyes to his. 'You are stronger then any demon and I will protect you now I am here, just close your eyes and cast.'

'You are falling into their trap,' replied Neria, 'they stand together to make it seem easy, but it is not.' She sighed heavily. 'You should go, save your other friends while they are occupied with me.' She turned and looked down. 'They want me because I have been strong enough to resist, I will use my last strength to give you and your friend's time.'

'No,' whispered Daylen. 'You can come, we need you.'

Neria nodded. 'Yes, you need me to do this for you. Go, Daylen, now.' She pointed to an open door. 'You've got the world to save.'

He looked at the open door and then back at Neria. 'Thank you,' he whispered pressing a chaste kiss to her hair.

As fast as he could, he ran for the door as the demonic Templar's made for him. As he reached the door he heard Neria pull her will together and as the door shut he heard a terrible explosion. He turned, planning on reopening the door, but it was gone, instead a giant ornate door that stretched far above his head. This wasn't a place he was familiar with either but he wasn't alone. In the middle of a rose garden stood a single Templar, not armoured up but looking grim all the same.

'You took your time,' said Alistair, looking every inch a King and Templar.

Daylen frowned at the King. 'You know this isn't real?' he asked, surprised that the former Templar hadn't been taken in particularly after his most recent loss. A time of loss was when a person was at their most vulnerable and he had known Alistair had been suffering this past week with the combined grief of losing his brother and discovering his wife was likely dead.

He nodded the once, looking deeply serious. 'The demon seems to have mismatched my memories somewhat, I noticed it almost straight away.'

Daylen gave Alistair a confused look and he smiled at the mage, it certainly seemed to be a more natural expression than the grim seriousness of just moments ago.

'It's difficult to explain,' said Alistair, 'but I know this isn't right. It's almost too vivid.'

The mage looked around to see that Alistair was right. While his vision had been blurred, Alistair's memories were stark and sharp. Daylen looked over at the young King of Ferelden who smiled again. It suddenly occurred to him that Alistair would have been a formidable Templar if he knew how to manipulate his foray into the Fade to such a degree to keep it unreal. As the demon tapped his memories, Alistair had managed to twist them.

'How did you realise?'

'Elissa,' he said, going serious again. He look down at his hand distractedly twisting the wedding band he wore. 'She was dressed wrong, so to speak.'

That was odd. 'Wrong?'

Alistair nodded looking up. 'It's difficult to explain quickly, just trust me.'

Daylen nodded, he did trust Alistair. 'You'll have to kill the demon.'

'I know, but I just can't bring myself to do it,' he said. 'The demon looks so like her, even her eyes and voice.' He broke off shaking his head. 'I feel like I'm killing her all over again.'

'You aren't,' said Daylen, 'she's already gone. This is just an abomination. It showed me my mother, how I wish she were still alive, but we must do what we have to Alistair.' Daylen smiled tightly. 'I can force it into its true form.'

'Yes, that would make it easier to finish off the demon,' said Alistair, then he waved his hand in the direction of large double doors. 'This way.'

He led the way to a great hall with huge fires blazing in the corners. On a dais were the seat of the Teryn and Teryna, two ornate chairs similar to thrones. The walls were lined with statues of armour and grand portraits that Daylen assumed were past Couslands. Stood in the centre of the room was a lone figure in a green gown with flowing red hair that fell in a tumble of elegant curls to the middle of her back. As they approached, she turned and a smile slowly lifted her lips. Daylen looked back at Alistair; he looked so sad as he gazed at the image of his wife, the daughter of the mighty Teryn Bryce Cousland.

'My dear husband,' she intoned, stepping closer. 'I have been waiting for you. Who is our guest?'

Alistair cleared his throat. 'Daylen is a Grey Warden,' he replied, introducing the mage. 'Let's make this quick,' he added in an undertone as he drew his sword from his side.

But Daylen stepped closer, looking at the abominations eyes. It was a strange thing when a spirit was in fade already, the demon harnessed part of the soul to used it to make the image all the more real. He had seen it in Revka's eyes, that spark of life but Elissa had no such spark. It was not an easy thing to look for and Daylen only knew of it from his studies into the Fade. The demon cocked it's head at Daylen, baring her teeth slightly.

'Nice try,' he said moving quickly and blasting the creature back then following up his initial attack with a blaze of fire.

Beside him, Alistair winced but he held his ground. On the other side of the room the demon's true form rose from the floor, encased in flame towering above them all. The two men exchanged a look before Alistair started off towards demon with his sword up. As he got close, Daylen fired off a bolt of power at it, distracting it long enough for Alistair to get close enough to dispatch it. Daylen watched in fascination as the King plunged his sword into the chest of the beast and pulled it out again, whipping around quickly to take its head off. It was little wonder they had survived their perilous trek to the Tower of Ishal.

'Where did you learn to fight so well?'

Alistair stepped back from the demon and looked at the mage. 'The Chantry train us not only to disrupt and drain mages, but to fight in combat as well. The Templar's are an army, Daylen, trained to protect the Chantry from anyone they deem a threat.'

That was troubling, Daylen decided. Alistair was now starting to fade from view. 'You are waking up, you're the first. Will you check on Neria? I fear we might be too late for her.'

Alistair nodded. 'I will do what I can,' he said before vanishing from view.

Now alone again, Daylen looked around. A huge double door had appeared once again. The quicker he helped the others, the quicker he could help Neria. As he reached the doors, he looked at the charred remains of the demon sent to trap Alistair. If he was right about what he had seen in the demon then Elissa Theirin was out their somewhere.

It was worse than waking up with a hangover. His head hurt, his body hurt, even his heart ached. Alistair was lying on the floor of the room where they had found the manifestation of a sloth demon. After that he had woken up in Highever and the start of one of the most heart wrenching nightmares he had ever had and after witnessing a the Rite of Tranquillity, he had knew nightmares. Sitting up he looked over at Neria; the girl was twitching horrifically, trapped in some battle that it didn't seem she would wake from. Somewhere across the room, Wynne was beginning to mutter and he walked over to her picking up a Lyrium potion, water and a piece of dried jerky from his pack. She would be weak.

The Senior Enchanter opened her eyes and looked directly at Alistair as he crouched down beside her.

'Daylen didn't happened to mention exactly what I could do to help Neria, did he?' he asked as he handed Wynne the supplies before moving aside so he could see the twitching girl.

She got to her feet with a helping hand from Alistair. As she downed the Lyrium they walked over to the other Mage. A dark look crossed her face. 'You will need to be ready, Your Highness,' she said. 'I have seen this before. It will not be long until the demon takes her. Daylen will have to be fast if he is to save her.'

Alistair sighed and pushed his hand through his hair. 'I don't know that I can take much more of this,' he said, turning away to sit down. He was already sick of it, the crushing losses played on his mind terribly, not just Cailan and Elissa, but all those lost at Ostagar. Already the future losses played on his mind. He looked back at Neria. 'Everywhere I turn there is death and destruction.'

'You must steel yourself, Your Highness,' said Wynne in a sage tone. 'There is much more to come, this is just the beginning.'

He nodded, he knew. They were staring into a dark pit of death and the light was quickly going out. Blights were monstrous things, that lasted for decades upon decades and Cailan had been foolish to think he could have broken it in one fell swoop. The shortest Blight had taken twelve years to put down. He partly thought himself foolish for allying to the only Grey Warden in Ferelden pegging their hopes on Treaties that were so old the pages had begun to fall to dust. He should be in Denerim, carrying on Cailan's work, gaining the alliance of the other nations to battle the Blight. He should have been in a position to stop Ferelden from losing its three most powerful families to treachery. Instead he was pacing a room in the place he had thought he would be banished to for the rest of his life waiting to see if a mage would turn into a demon or not. This was not how his life was supposed to be; he was not certain precisely how it was supposed to be, but this wasn't it.

'I don't think I can,' he admitted quietly. 'I don't think I can accept the darkness that is to come.'

Wynne smiled softly. 'Which is why you are in a perfect position to fight it.'

It seemed like hours before Daylen came around, but in reality it had been less than half an hour. Shaky and ashen faced, it had taken all of Alistair and Morrigan's strength to get him to his feet. The moment he was upright, he batted the two of them off and queried after Neria. While she was no long twitching, she wasn't awake either.

Daylen's brow knitted. 'She should have woken,' he said. 'I got her out, where is she?'

Alistair placed a hand on Daylen's shoulder and guided him to the place where Neria still lay twitching. Daylen shrugged out of Alistair's grip and drop to his knee, his hands finding her face swiftly. His fingers brush delicately over her skin, stroking her cheeks. 'Wynne?' he asked quietly.

The spirit healer sat the other side of Neria. 'I fear she might be too drained to come back to us,' she said. 'We'll have to go on without her.'

'Surely we cannot leave her here?' said Alistair.

He had a point, the room was a disgusting mess, oozing with blood and demonic ichor but the rest of the Tower was no better. 'Any suggestions?' he asked the King.

'The First Enchanter's office was untouched,' Wynne suggested.

Wynne led the way back down the stairs to the First Enchanter's office with Alistair carrying the elven mage behind her. It seemed to be the only untouched place in the whole Tower and they did their best to make her comfortable on the floor. Alistair pulled off his cloak and bundled it into a pillow shape to place under Neria's head. Morrigan started rooting through the cupboards for supplies. Everyone's will was low and they still had to find Uldred within the remaining floors of the tower although it was looking increasingly likely that he had locked himself in the Harrowing chamber. Wynne had remarked that it made sense as the Veil was thinnest in the room where they conducted the Harrowing. With that in mind, they just had to battle through what beasties remained on the floor that housed the Templar's sleeping quarters and working space then they would be at the doors that every Mage dreaded.

Alistair looked at Daylen. 'What if she turns and we're not here?'

'The demon that tried to turn her was thwarted in the in Fade, it cannot take her,' said Daylen.

'Is she susceptible to other demons?' asked Alistair. They exchanged a look, if there had been colour to his glassed over eyes, Alistair would have said Daylen's eyes were alight like fire. 'There are children below,' Alistair reminded him, 'and other innocent lives.'

Surprisingly they had found many still alive in the Tower. Some allied to Uldred, but not all were, and they had been sent to Petra and Kinnon to help look after the group of small children they had managed to protect.

'Yes,' said Daylen almost reluctantly. 'She is more susceptible at this time, but I believe Neria has the strength to do what she must not to let a demon lose in this world.' He swallowed. 'We are capable of ending our own lives in the Fade.'

'Sacrifice herself?' asked Alistair incredulously.

'We can do a great many things that Templar's are ignorant of,' said Daylen darkly. Alistair tutted loudly. 'Sorry,' Daylen muttered, 'it's just you would have been quite a powerful Templar had you been dedicated yourself to it. I shouldn't hold it against you; it saved your life in the Fade.'

'Only because my grief is so fresh, I'm not sure it can yet be used against me,' he said sadly. 'So many times, I think I could have easily succumbed and another time, maybe I would have.'

Daylen shrugged. 'I'm not so certain, Alistair, I think you discredit yourself,' he said. 'Sorry, once again, I should not judge you side by side of my other experiences. You are not like other Templars.'

'Probably because I am not strictly one,' he remarked. 'King of Ferelden you know, and all that. I hated it Daylen, the training to fight, I enjoyed that and I'll admit the mental training was difficult but satisfying to achieve. But I just don't buy into the idea that Mages need to be watched over, treated like dirt because of the power they command. The Maker made you that way for a reason and therefore you should be treated like everyone else.'

The expression on Daylen's face was one of confusion. 'You honestly believe that?' he asked. 'Even after seeing this?'

'Sure, Mages are dangerous,' he said, 'but so is everyone else. I could easily skewer innocents with my sword if I so wished causing just as much damage. Perhaps if you were left to yourselves you might not resort to desperate measures,' Alistair explained reasonably. 'Look at Morrigan,' he said looking up at the Apostate, 'I think she is one of the least likely to succumb to the temptations but don't tell her I said that.'

'She was certainly holding out against her demon, and willing to strike it down,' said Daylen. 'I don't think she is a blood mage.'

'No,' agreed Alistair, 'but she is still dangerous.' He looked back at Neria. 'If you are certain there is nothing we can do for Neria, then we should move on. Once Uldred is dead it may help wake her as the rest of the demons are banished back to the Fade.'

Daylen looked in the direction they had left her. 'I hope you are right my friend.'

They emerged from the Harrowing Chamber with Alistair supporting the seriously weakened First Enchanter. The elderly man had endured days of torture at the hands of the now death Uldred who had turned into an abomination of such power that none had ever seen before. Daylen was surprised to have found the First Enchanter still alive, but then he supposed there was a reason that Irving had been First for as long as he had. In the antechamber, the captive Templar, Cullen, was now free of his prison. As he followed the other's he expounded on his beliefs that none of the mages were to be trusted and that even Daylen was corrupted by the force that had swept through the tower. At the third floor, Alistair reminded the Templar that the decision lay with the Knight-Commander effectively shutting him up as he realised that none of them, not even the Templar trained King was listening to him. No doubt he would pipe up when they reach Gregoir, but then he would be the Knight- Commander's issue and not theirs.

At the base of the Tower, Irving flanked by Daylen, Wynne and Alistair along the other survivors confirmed that the tower had been saved, but with only a handful of survivors. Many of the Senior Enchanters were dead, killed in the Chamber before Alistair and Daylen had taken down Uldred. As predicted, Cullen once again spoke up only to be silenced by the Knight-Commander who stood by his word that he would stand down if the First Enchanter said to do so.

The old man looked back at his rescuers. 'If you could aid an old man once again,' he said. 'I am need of rest before I do anything else.'

Alistair nodded but Daylen cut in across the old man. 'First Enchanter, there is another reason I returned to the tower.'

Irving nodded. 'Yes, I was told of the loss at Ostagar.'

'I am the only Warden that survived,' he confirmed, 'but I have a need of the Tower. After the last Blight, the Wardens and the Tower signed a treaty binding you to help us should a Blight ever rise again.'

'Indeed,' replied Irving, 'myself and your Commander spoke of it. I offered him our unconditional support, as I will do for you now. The Blight already eats away at Ferelden and must be stopped at all costs.'

Daylen could not have agreed more. His nights were plagued beyond measure with the scream of the Archdemon rearing its head in his mind tugging at him to seek it and kill it, or follow it. He was not entirely sure. 'And what of you Knight-Commander?'

'Our duty is to protect the Circle and I have to withdraw our aid,' said Gregoir.

Alistair clicked his tongue impatiently, tutting loudly at the Knight-Commander. 'And what use will that be when the darkspawn march on the Tower? A Blight concerns us all and beyond any one duty. Stopping it transcends even being King as there is no point to such a position if everything is being torn down around us.'

'Be that as it may, the Circle cannot be left unattended,' replied Gregoir. 'If the Blight comes here then we will act but before then.'

'Perhaps we should get the First Enchanter to his quarters,' said Daylen before everything exploded, 'and we can check on Neria. See if she is close to waking yet.'

'Thank you,' said the Enchanter, allowing Alistair to help him again.

Despite Irving's offer of accommodation, they left the Tower as dusk fell over Lake Calenhad with Wynne in tow. The Senior Mage had request permission to assist them having apparently been moved by Alistair's point that the Blight transcended any one duty. Had he not been a Prince he would have made a fine recruit to the Grey Wardens.

'What did Irving say about Neria?' Alistair asked once they had made it to dry land on the shore.

'Irving hopes she will survive, but it may take some days to wake her,' he replied. 'Irving is very weak and it may take him some time to get enough strength to help her. I suppose all I can do is pray the Maker sees fit to save her.'

They would have continued on in silence, but Alistair had noticed Morrigan's foul mood building since they had accepted Wynne's offer. 'Something on your mind Morrigan?' he asked her in a pleasant voice he knew would annoy her.

She glared at Wynne. 'I do not understand why we have to endure this preachy school mistress. She has no extraordinary talent and would be better off remaining in that Tower least her age hampers her.'

'Wow,' muttered Alistair under his breath glancing at Wynne who's eyes darkened on the witch.

'Well, it is not your decision to make,' pointed out Daylen, 'and I also seem to remember telling you that you were to act as a silent guide? Now, either shut up or be on your way.'

Morrigan crossed her arms before stalking off in the direction of the Spoiled Princess. Daylen looked over in the direction of Wynne. 'Ignore her, the rest of us do. She doesn't really interact with us over much.'

'I take it she is an apostate?' asked Wynne looking between to the two men.

Alistair nodded. 'From the Wilds,' he said, looking after her darkly. He hadn't exactly been quiet about his dislike of the woman. 'But we were in need of her aid and she has yet to bring us to harm so she is welcome to say as long as she wishes.'


	6. The Queen of Rogues I

_**A/N and so we move into the Queen of Rogues. I must thank Pollyanna for giving me so excellent inspiration for this that I hadn't thought of and wish I had, but as they say, two minds are better than one.**_

_**Part Two: The Queen of Rogues**_

_**25th Harvestmere, 9:30. Kinloch Hold, Ferelden**_

They stayed overnight at the Spoiled Princess, no one had the strength to get up and move, requiring a good night's rest before they continued their task. Alistair was first to retire and Daylen couldn't throw off that nagging sense that the young King needed someone to talk to. Daylen considered Alistair's experience in the Fade had been more harrowing than anyone else's, even his. For him, he had long let go of his mother, but Alistair had yet to accept Elissa's death. He half dreaded what Alistair may have endured waking up to that but if he wanted to tell, then he would in his own time. Then there was Wynne, even now he could see a difference in her as if the Fade clung to her; the Fade shimmer over every mage but Wynne was different. He did not understand it and would have fallen into silence pondering it had Wynne not been recounting the events that lead to Uldred turning against the Tower. Anger boiled through him, hatred fired his veins; he would see to it that Loghain paid for his whispered promises that lead to the death of so many. He even felt angry towards the loss of the Templar's. A sure sigh he was growing, or realising that not every man with the power to reduce a Mage helpless was a monster who would gratuitously use that power for his own nefarious reason.

In the end, Daylen retired to bed with too many thoughts and the call of the Darkspawn and Fade to disturb his night. When the morning had dawned and everyone had broken their fast, they set off everyone in differing states of rest or unrest.

'Where next?' he asked Alistair once they were on the only road that lead from the docks at the shore.

The plan had been Highever, once, but he was sure that was no longer an option. Alistair's reaction to his dream in the Fade suggested as much. The reluctant King sighed before answering. 'We need somewhere we can gather all these allies we're supposed to find,' he said. 'I believe Highever isn't an option, but Arl Eamon might be, his men weren't at Ostagar, even if he is…' he trailed off. 'Redcliffe.'

'Redcliffe,' Daylen agreed with a nod.

The quickest path to Redcliffe, by Alistair's reckoning, was to head around the north coast of Lake Calenhad and then south between the lake and the Mountains, where he considered a stop in the small Bann of Rainsfere, the seat of Arl Eamon's younger brother Teagan. Although Alistair also pointed out it might be a waste given that Teagan had remained in Denerim to assist the Queen in her duties while the King was at war. They decided to make straight for Redcliffe instead.

Camp was quiet that night and as the other's drifted off to bed, Daylen set the ward returning unsurprised to note that Alistair had taken first watch. He walked over and took a seat beside him. 'Do you need to talk? About Elissa, or Cailan?' he asked quietly accepting a mug of mead from Alistair.

'No,' he said in a quiet, defeated voice. 'I don't really know what to say about it all. I keep running through things I should have done. Had I told her to stay in Denerim would she be alive? And Cailan? Well, Loghain couldn't keep him off the field, so what could I, his bastard brother, achieve?' He sighed heavily. 'I'll avenge the lot of them, Elissa, Cailan, the rest of the Couslands, when I am back in Denerim. I'll have Howe and Loghain up side by side for the traitors they are.'

Daylen nodded. He had told Alistair what he had learnt from Wynne about Loghain's hand in the destruction at the Tower. What he had not told Alistair was of his premonition in the Fade that Elissa Theirin was not in the Fade herself. But how to bring that up he did not know. If she was alive out there, then he was sure they would find her. If not, then why was her soul not within the Fade. What could she have done to have been cast to the Void? It did not bear thinking about and he certainly was not going to trouble Alistair's mind further with such possibilities.

'You've lost two sets from brethren to him now,' said Alistair as he made his pass on the side Daylen sat.

'Yes,' he said darkly. 'I would see him die for it.'

'Then our path is clear,' said Alistair stopping to look at the Mage.

'Indeed,' agreed Daylen, 'we shall all be calling you Majesty before the year is out.'

Alistair chuckled darkly. 'I may be popular with the people but not every noble thinks as they do.'

'Then we raise an army, in the name of King Alistair and the Grey Wardens and show them that they should,' said Daylen with more passion than he thought he felt about the whole thing.

He never thought he would be a save the guy sort of person, the shadows were safer for an oddity such as himself yet all of a sudden, here he was fighting the good fight; with the wrong people next to him. But in a very, very good way.

_**Redcliffe, Ferelden. **_

The journey had been a short one. After Loghain's performance at the Landsmeet, Teagan Guerrin, Bann of Rainsfere had barely stopped long enough in his Denerim Estate to issue orders to close up the house and fetch his fastest horse. The worse had happened, the last two Theirin's were dead, Queen Anora was without child and Princess Elissa murdered alongside her family. The Theirin and Cousland lines both wiped out in a matter of days and the architects, Loghain and Howe suddenly catapulted to power. That was not all. As he progressed east across Ferelden, news reached him, Eamon was sick.

It spurred him to rider faster, harder, pushing his horse to its limits until Redcliffe, his family's seat but never really his home. He had been shipped off to the Free Marches with Eamon when his father had joined forces with the Rebel Queen in the Occupation. He'd been a small child then and didn't remember his father. When he returned to Ferelden, his father was dead and his sister, Queen Rowan was nobody more than a mere curiosity who he never got to know as she died so young. Maric later speculated that it was from the Taint, contracted when they had undertook an excursion through the Deep Roads to throw off the Orlesian forces above ground. But he would never know the cause of his sister's untimely demise.

Slowing from a gallop to a canter, he noticed someone stood on the bridge to the village. He finally slowed to walk before dismounting. 'Bann Teagan, my lord,' said the man bowing to him.

'I have urgent business with my brother,' he said the watchman.

'I am certain you do,' he agreed, 'but my Lord, I am sorry to report, no one has heard anything from the Castle for days. The gates have been locked and neither the servants nor guards have returned to the village when the shift ends, then last night…' he trailed off.

'Last night?' questioned Teagan.

The guardsman seemed to gather himself for delivering bad news. 'Last night the dead rose my Lord and swamped the village. So many dead, we barely had enough time,' he explained. 'Had it not been for Her Highness a lot more people would be dead, I don't know how she managed it but she managed to blow a tonne of them sky high with lantern oil and an arrow.'

Teagan blinked, going over what he had just been told. 'Her Highness?'

'Aye,' said the guardsman, 'Her Highness Princess Elissa Theirin rode in not a week ago with urgent business for the Arl. The Castle was closed off then, she's been receiving the Knights as they return and helping organise aid since last night's attack.'

'Where is she?' Teagan asked. This was too much to hope for; even if the Princess were not with child to carry the Theirin line, a living Cousland would be in a powerful position.

Ferelden's second family were powerful and popular not just with the ordinary people of Ferelden but with the nobles. Bryce Cousland had been a prime example of upstanding nobility when others fell into the traps of avarice. Teryn Cousland had served Ferelden all his life from fighting in the Occupation to leading the most prosperous lands in Ferelden. That sort of dedication earned him the ear of the King to the point he was the only man in Ferelden that could deny his King without losing his head for it. The Teryn had denied Cailan's request to be wed to Elissa, but that meant he could not deny the King's next request that she marry Alistair. Teagan was almost sure that had been his nephew's plan in any case. Not only was it a politically strong match, it had turned out to be a surprisingly good match for both of them personally.

'The Chantry, my lord,' he said, 'we moved the injured there this morning, and those who can't fight with the children are there too. She said we had to keep everyone together.'

Teagan nodded before mounting his horse and thanking the guard before heading into the city proper. Like every other village in Ferelden, the Chantry was the biggest building, tall and dominated in the centre of the town. It had been destroyed when Redcliffe had rioted against the Orlesian Lord installed after his father's defection and not rebuilt until Eamon had taken the seat. There was a buzz of activity as the town's Mayor rounded up every able-bodied man and the two men exchanged a nod of the head as he passed. Once again, Teagan dismounted and made straight for the double doors, one of which was open. He walked in, gobsmacked to see the villages entire population; men, women and children were stood, lain down or sat with grim faces and terrified whispers on their lips. At the end of the Chantry, at the foot of the dais where the Revered Mother gave her sermons was the woman herself speaking with a much younger red head with a Marbari War Hound at her feet.

Even from here, Elissa Theirin looked terrible. Her hair was matted with dirt, her clothes were slightly torn and a bruise had spread over her eye and cheek. As he drew closer he caught their conversation. 'Find a way to occupy the children, and any supplies we find must been given to the Knights and Militia, Perth and Murdoch will know how best to distribute them,' Elissa said. 'Anyone who can help make more supplies needs to get put to work, get everyone to pool every supply they have. Hording won't help if we all die, they can replace it when this is sorted.'

The Revered Mother nodded her agreement. 'As you wish, Your Highness.'

Then Elissa looked over, and she smiled. It wasn't happy, but grateful. 'Teagan,' she said, 'I had hoped you would find your way here.'

'My lady, how is this even possible?'

She hung her head and turned away a little. 'I ran, Teagan, well more accurately, I was dragged out,' she said before sighing. He noticed she pushed her fingers under her eyes, tears no doubt brimming. Elissa had loved her family dearly and to lose them all would cause her much grief. He knew a little of that right now. The loss of Cailan and Alistair played on his heart, even if he had not been a blood relation of Alistair, the boy had been raised here, he saw him often as a child and had gotten to know him again after Cailan had elevated him to the position of Prince. 'My father said I had a duty to perform and see Howe pay.'

Teagan nodded in agreement. He'd have happily have run through the self-proclaimed Teryn of Highever had he had the chance before leaving Denerim. 'I am sorry for your losses, my Lady, both in Highever and Ostagar.'

She looked up sharply. 'Aye,' she said. 'When I have a moment, I have much to mourn,' she agreed as she attempted to compose herself. 'But for the moment we have a village to save and to discover if your brother still lives.'

A grimness set over him, it was as good a plan as any to start with. 'What would you like me to do?'

'Let me get some rest,' she said picking up her quiver and bow, 'I've been up through the night. Then I want to see if we can get anyone out of the village.'

With a nod, she smiled before turning her back and walking out no doubt to the Inn. Teagan felt something overtake him; perhaps, just perhaps they were not as doomed as he had first thought.

Kallian Tabris woke Elissa just after noon. The elven woman looked seriously disgruntled as Elissa sat up right with a groan rubbing at the wound she had sustained in Highever. Arms crossed over her chest and eyes narrowed Kallian looked positively dangerous. 'Bann Teagan is here,' she said, telling Elissa everything she needed to know.

'I know,' she said throwing her legs over the edge of the bed. She had slept in her leggings and shirt, thus didn't have to shoo Kallian from the room. 'But what did you expect? Teagan was bound to arrive to seek his brother's aid if he believed Loghain acted against the King.'

'He sentenced me to death,' pointed out Kallian.

Elissa pulled on her boots. 'Actually, Queen Anora sentenced you to death and Bann Teagan acknowledged the sentence,' she said standing up. 'You have to admit that they didn't really have much choice.' Kallian hrumped as Elissa pulled on her bodice over her chemise. 'If it makes you feel any better, he didn't like having to do it and wanted to find a way to bring Vaughan Kendells to justice,' Elissa continued. 'Kendells bedroom tastes where not unknown, just unproven.' What she knew about that man always made her shudder. Her marriage to Alistair had provided her with a wall to hide behind when it came to Kendells and Thomas Howe. 'I will deal with Teagan. Now tell me, did you get any more out of Leliana?'

'You're still expecting more than shoes, pretty dresses and a strange devotion to the Maker?' asked Kallian raising one of her eyebrows.

'It niggles at me,' she said. 'Her fighting skills are impressive for a Sister of the Chantry.'

Kallian shrugged. 'My fighting skills are impressive for an elf from an Alienage given that we are not supposed to carry weapons,' she pointed out. 'Maybe she is like you, Elissa, and her family believed that war might happen again and taught her to protect herself. Maybe you are prejudice because she is Orlesian.'

'Maybe,' she said, 'but I'm find it difficult to be trusting.'

'Understandable,' agreed Kallian. 'Anyway, she was ordering us broth when I told her I was waking you.'

What she would not give for something other than broth; the thin soup was wearing on her taste buds and she ached for a proper square meal. They hadn't had one since leaving Lothering over a week ago. Not that she eaten much there as she processed her grief into something she could use to help Ferelden. Counting back it had been over two weeks ago, which meant that Highever had fallen over three weeks ago. Time was slipping through her fingers but she did not dare anything without the advice of Arl Eamon. Teagan's arrival here indicated that he did not trust Loghain any more than she did in this matter. Things had been tense between Cailan and Loghain before they had left Denerim with Alistair being caught in the occasional crossfire. Had Loghain gone and done the unthinkable? She felt a sense of disquiet settle in her heart.

'Right, broth,' she said unenthusiastically.

'Could be worse, could be gruel,' Kallian reminded the Princess.

Leliana, a lay sister from Lothering's Chantry was glowering at the corner table where a lone, leather clad elf sat nursing a tankard. He had arrived the day before yesterday and there was something _shifty_ about him. Leliana knew shifty, like she knew when she was not trusted. Elissa did not trust her and perhaps she had good reason too. The younger woman seemed educated not just in battle but in many other matters as well. She had taken control of Redcliffe and might very well save the village now she had aid from the Arl's brother. At least that was who Kallian had told her he was, as she watched him through narrowed eyes. The door at the far end open of the room opened. Elissa quickly followed by Kallian and Cassius, Elissa Marbari War hound appeared. The two women stopped when they spotted her and headed in her direction.

'Are you still taking issue with our elven friend?' asked Elissa as she slid on to the stool at the end of the counter, leaving Kallian to sit on Leliana's other side.

'Just strikes me as strange that anyone would continue to wait here for his brother when all this is going on,' she observed in an undertone that both women could hear. 'He has no tie to this village, why stay?'

Elissa nursed her cup thoughtfully. 'I could ask the same of you.'

'I cannot stand by and watch this suffering,' Leliana replied. 'I don't expect you to trust me or my vision, but the Maker directed me to you.'

Kallian snorted into her cup. She had made it clear what she thought of any vision from the Maker. If anyone disbelieved in the words of the Chantry then it was Kallian. Elissa couldn't say she was particularly devout and any faith she had was hanging by a thread. Still, she threw Kallian a quelling look. Leliana's faith might not have been her but the sister clearly believed her vision and Elissa had been so compelled to bring her along for reasons she could not pinpoint. She would have probably taken anyone who had asked knowing what was coming for them from the south.

In good time three bowls of unappetising broth were set down in front of the three women. So much for silk sheets and the Orlesian cuisine the Arlessa of Redcliffe preferred. Elissa downed her broth in record time; there wasn't really any time to lose for the village. At length she turned to Leliana.

'For what it's worth, I agree with you, about him,' she said, nodding in the direction of Berwick. 'Think you can charm anything out of him?'

Leliana lifted her eyebrow. 'I can see what I can do, Elissa,' she agreed, 'but their might not be anything charming about it.'

Elissa frowned. 'I'll just turn a blind eye,' she said. 'Come on Kallian, it's time for us to face the music.'

'You go right ahead,' muttered Kallian, 'I'm quite happy here, thank you.'

'Kallian, you are not going to hide in here all day,' she said firmly. 'You are coming with me.'

Elissa tracked Teagan down to the lakeside having been pointed there by the still sceptical Mayor. She led the way, casting a look back at Kallian who looked more and more mutinous with every step. Elissa could have told the elf time after time that she had had Elissa's support that nothing would happened to her, but Kallian was too set by the experience in Denerim for anything to get through. Elissa seriously doubted that actually proving face to face that no harm would come to her would work. But she wasn't about to let Kallian sit around the tavern moping while the village around her worked to find a way to save themselves.

As predicted when he spotted Kallian, the full force of his glare fell on Ferelden's Princess who affected a look of quiet authority. The girl who had cut through the Arl of Denerim's estate faltered and hung back from Cailan's Regent.

'I should have known,' said Teagan as Elissa approached. 'You were far too quiet in your opinions, Your Highness.'

Elissa straightened her back and lifted her head. 'She saved my life,' she said simply, 'in Highever. Dragged me out.'

Teagan looked back over at Kallian and back at Elissa before shaking his head. 'I'm sure it no longer matters,' he said, 'and it's not as if she was not justified. She's scared.'

Elissa smiled tightly. 'She still wakes up screaming about what happened,' she said in an undertone.

Kallian liked to think that Elissa had not realised she was still suffering, but like the massacre at Highever kept Elissa awake, Kallian's actions in Denerim wore on her mind. Teagan turned and looked out at the cold blue lake. 'The Royal Guard went through the estate while we heard court on the matter, they found damming evidence but nothing that could be moved forward without the King present.'

She swore under her breath as Teagan moved around her.

'Kallian, you have nothing to fear here,' he said, holding his hands out to show he meant no harm to her. 'No one could blame you for your actions in Denerim. Please feel at ease.'

Elissa watched the exchange out of the corner of her eye. The young elf nodded her head but remained at distance from the two nobles. Teagan turned back to Elissa. 'You wanted to evacuate the village?'

'I wanted to find away. The only means currently is by road, but it worries me,' she said looking up the great hill that the villagers would have to leave by. She could help but let her eyes look over the silent castle. It looked eerie as it watched over the town and lake. Cold fear settled in her gut. It was a feeling she was becoming too well acquainted with over the past month or so. 'All the boats were destroyed in the first attack. Seems to me whatever is up there wants us to stay here.'

'You can't believe that,' he said.

She didn't know what she believed. However, she wasn't going to let her fear get in the way of at least trying to help the village. 'Have you spoken to the knights about evacuating?'

'They suggested getting the old, then the children out followed by everyone else,' said Teagan, 'the elders immediately protested saying they had lived their lives and to get the families out first.'

'Naturally the families protested at that as they don't want to leave anyone behind,' suggested Elissa with a soft sigh. 'We need to organise everyone as best we can and lead them out, the militia and knights last, but start with the children and their mothers.'

He bowed to her. 'Yes, my Lady,' he said before turning back towards the village proper.

Elissa remained on the shore, looking out along the still lake trying to supress the shivers going through her body. Kallian approached her own gaze on the lake. 'Do you believe that something is keeping us here?'

'Something is most certainly trying to stop us from leaving,' said Elissa.

'Then why not try to enter the castle?' asked Kallian.

Elissa looked side wards at her former handmaiden. 'We can't leave the village unprotected with nearly everyone here. We need to get them out before we try to breach the castle.' She turned to head back to the village. 'Not that I have much hope of what we will find. Those creatures must have come from somewhere.'

'Everyone in the castle dead and turned to the walking dead?' asked Kallian.

'Something like that,' replied Elissa as they turned into the main town square to see Leliana man handling the suspicious elf down the hill from the tavern. She exchanged a look with Kallian who had raised her eyebrows at the commotion. 'I'm not entirely certain I want to know,' said Elissa.

'It might go well for your reputation not to know,' agree Kallian earning what was becoming a rare grin from the bereaved and increasingly exhausted Princess. 'But I suspect you will find out whether you want to or not.'

'Indeed,' she said as Leliana walked over having handed Berwick to Murdoch.

The Orlesian lay sister smiled, holding out a folded piece of paper to Elissa. 'He is working for a man named Arl Howe.'

The blood drained out of Elissa so quickly that she thought she would fall. 'Arl Howe,' she said faintly, looking at Kallian before snatching the note from Leliana.

As she read it, Leliana directed her conversation to Kallian. 'You know this Arl Howe?'

'Oh, we know Arl Howe,' mutter Kallian darkly, the girl who had fought through the Arl of Denerim's Estate waking up with angered passion. 'Arl Rendon Howe of Amarantine; he is a traitor and a murderer.'

Elissa looked up from the note. 'There is nothing here connecting him to Howe, just instructions to watch the castle.'

Kallian looked over Elissa's shoulder at the note. 'At least they do not know you are here, then my Lady,' she said, 'but it begs the question what does Howe know about what is going on here?'

'Will you tell Bann Teagan?' asked Leliana.

'We can tell him what Berwick said and show him the note, but it is pretty poor evidence,' replied Elissa, she sighed looking at the note again before tucking it away in her coat. 'Come on, we have an evacuation to attend to.'


	7. The Queen of Rogues II

_A/N: Another one, I have ironed out as much as I could find, but please forgive me. Between being a climbing frame for two pre-schoolers and uni work, reading this through several times over has made me mistake blind. Do let me know if there are any glaring mistakes. I hope it works. Do enjoy. (Oh and I'll be updating the prequel to this over the next couple of days)_

_**26th Harvestmere, 9:30. Redcliffe, Ferelden.**_

The night had set blood red as the battle had raged into the night. The day had become everyone's worse nightmare rolled into one. Elissa was fighting for her life in a manner similar to the way she had cut through Highever in order to save her own life. There was only her and while she was not afraid to die, Elissa knew that this was not where she was supposed to die. The sword in her hand, embezzled with the crest of the Couslands, was supposed to be rammed deep in the heart of Arl Howe. So she could not die here without her mission complete. But at the same time it felt so hollow. Killing Arl Howe would not bring anyone back.

Elissa ducked a spike mace that was flying her way and spun around the animated corpse bringing her sword around to severe it's head. As the corpse fell she found herself eye to eye with Kallian who was glowering.

In the midst of battle, the elf stomped over fallen friend and foe. 'How am I supposed to keep you alive when you insist on throwing yourself at everything that has a pointy stick?' she demanded. 'I promised your father, Maker help me, that I would keep you alive.'

'We need to fight them back,' replied Elissa, 'I'm not going to stand back, Kallian. I know what I am doing.'

Kallian shook her head. 'You don't, Elissa. This isn't the practice ring in Highever, my Lady, this is real.'

The Princess sucked in a breath. Kallian was right of course. Elissa had never fought in battle before the sack at Highever. Sheer luck had prevented her from picking up the sort of wound that had nearly killed her in Highever. 'I know it's real,' she said, 'but I caused this Kallian, if I had trusted my instincts then…' she trailed off as another wave of the creatures pushed towards them.

Side by side, Elissa and her former handmaiden now sworn protector lifted their weapons.

The battle ended long before dawn, the morning dawning as red as the night. The villagers emerged from the Chantry wide-eyed and terrified. If seventy people had survived then Elissa would be surprised. An entire village worth of people littered the town from boarder to waterside. Those that survived were looking through the bodies for missing family members. Although she knew she should sleep, Elissa could not. She was at a loss of anything to do and occasionally her gaze would return to statue of Andraste in the Chantry. She had never been a devout woman; she believed well enough but the last month had made her belief hang by a thread. Occasionally she had sent up a prayer to the Maker and Andraste to protect to the souls of those she had lost. Looking away, Elissa turned her attention to the list of those who had survived. She hadn't counted them and could not bear to do so.

'It is not your fault,' said Leliana behind her. 'You were trying to help.'

Elissa looked back at her for a moment before looking away. 'I should have listened to my gut feeling,' she countered. 'I could feel it, the magic weaving its way through the village.' She rubbed at her eyes with the pads of her fingers before flopping into the chair at the table. 'It was not supposed to be this way, none of it.'

'The Maker sends us these trials to make us stronger,' said Leliana, 'so that we can defeat these evils.'

Elissa replied with a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. 'It isn't making me stronger. Kallian is right you know, I am going to get myself killed.'

'Don't say that,' said Leliana coming closer. 'You are a fine swordswoman and better bowmistress.'

'Be that as it may, I have nothing to live for anymore,' she said her voice distant. 'They're all gone, my family dead at the hand of a traitor and my husband ripped apart in Ostagar. What more is there?'

Leliana hung her head. 'I have prayed for your family in my daily contemplation,' she said softly. 'I did not realise until Bann Teagan arrived that you were married to Prince Alistair. I remember seeing him when they marched through to Ostagar with the King.'

Elissa smiled tightly. 'Bann Teagan does like to stand on ceremony,' she said. 'So you really have been locked in the Chantry all this time.'

'I wouldn't say locked,' replied Leliana, 'I was there of my own choice after…' she trailed off and looked away. 'Well, something went wrong in my life. The person I loved betrayed me and left me to die. I found succour in the Chantry after my trials.'

'Must be nice,' muttered Elissa wistfully, 'but I don't think I ever will. I feel as if I have lost my heart and mind. Death would be a release that eclipses my need for revenge on Rendon Howe.'

Leliana fixed her with a look at Elissa didn't know how to fathom. 'I believe Ferelden needs you. I think the Maker directed me to you because you are part of the answer to stop this Blight. It was no coincidence I overheard you discussing how to end it. I believe the Maker shows himself in strange and mysterious ways that many do not recognise. The Maker will show himself to you.'

'With all due respect Sister Leliana, I doubt that,' she said harshly, standing up. 'If you will excuse me, I need some air.'

She hadn't intended to be so harsh about the Maker to the clearly devout Sister but Elissa's hope store had run dry. After last night she was down to praying to which ever passing deity might be listening: the Maker, Elven or Dwarven, hell, she would even take an untainted Old God of Tevinter at this point. If the Maker wanted to send her a sign, he could damn well show her something, anything, to live for. Free of the four walls of the Chantry, she was able to think, her gaze occasionally flitting over the castle, the lake, the road out of the village. They were trapped so she settled in, taking her sword, the ancient blade used four hundred years ago to fight off Calenhad, she began sharpening it. Weapon maintenance was not her strong point, but this blade was old and the only connection she had left to the long line of warriors of which she descended; not that she was much of a warrior. Her speciality was her bow with a bit of sword training but she could and was holding her own in one to one combat once she was out of arrows.

The sun rose higher and Elissa knew she needed to sleep, but she wondered at the point. It seemed assured that she would die come nightfall. Around her the village drifted back to prepare for another night. The men lined up at the Blacksmith's who was doing repairs in return for her promise that she would find his daughter, the women made what they could out of the little supplies available in the village but they were running low and so the despair settled in. Unaware of it happening, she fell asleep sat against the beam under the warming sun that seemed to mock the day. It would have been better if it clouded over with a hint of rain.

_**The Road to Redcliffe, Ferelden**_

Alistair had taken the final watch relieving a knitting Wynne a few hours after midnight. Maintaining a low fire he had stared into the flames for hours not sure of what to do. Not as tired, as he had been when they had left the Tower his night had been plagued by the nightmare he had endured in the Fade. He had wanted to succumb; it would have been so much easier rather than waking up in a world where there was nothing. It was not long before a restless Daylen who was as equally plagued by his night visions joined him by the fire. The two men sat in silence but it was a comfort to Alistair to not be alone with his thoughts.

'Did you know they call me a Fade Strider?' asked Daylen after a very long time. 'It means I can see the Fade at all times, the way it overlays against the physical world it's how I see.'

Alistair tipped a mouthful of mead into his mouth. 'Could you see it before your accident,' he asked as delicately as he could remembering what the Warden Commander had told him about a Templar being responsible.

Daylen shook his head. 'No, I wanted to be a Battle Mage,' he said with a chuckle. 'I was angry with the world look before this happened.'

'You are still formidable in battle as you well know,' said Alistair.

'As are you, my friend,' he said, then he took a sip of his mead with a long sigh. 'Anyway, my plans of being the Circle's fiercest Battle Mage out the window, I realised I could see the Fade as clear as I used to be able to see the rest of the world. Irving thought that I could use this talent to the mages advantage. If I could see how Demon's picked their victims perhaps we could work out how to avoid it.'

Alistair considered this for a moment. 'You wanted to find a way to stop having to go through the Harrowing?' he asked wondering where this was going although he was grateful for the diversion.

'Or the Rite of Tranquillity,' confirmed Daylen. 'I take it you are also aware of both rituals.'

He hummed his answer under his breath. Right now he would almost trade his nightmare of Elissa for the nightmare of the young girl he had seen take Tranquillity. His hands shook as they always did when he recalled things from his training that he never wanted to think about again.

'I've seen a Rite of Tranquillity performed,' he admitted into the fire. 'After that I was certain I didn't want to be a Templar. The poor girl, she screamed and screamed,' he shivered at the memory, 'I dreamt about in Highever a few times. The first time, Elissa didn't know what to make of it. I didn't tell her much about being a Templar, she would have been horrified to know what they do in the name of the Maker.'

Daylen fell contemplative for a moment. 'I'm sorry you had to see that,' he muttered.

'Well, I got out, turns out I had this older brother who was willing to pull all the stops out to give me a chance of a real life,' he said a little solemnly. He missed Cailan, more than he thought he would. For all some called Ferelden's dead King a halfwit he had proven himself to be a more thoughtful and kind man then he had thought after more than a few years of resentment. 'But everyone trying to give me that chance, gone to dust.'

Daylen tapped his fingers against his knee thinking through what was on his mind. He knew he should tell Alistair what he had seen in his vision of Elissa. Alistair ran his hand through his hair, falling into a brooding silence.

'Is there any chance that she could have survived?' Daylen asked still facing the fire. He had to get this out somehow. If anyone needed hope then it was Alistair right now.

Alistair looked up. 'The barkeep in the Princess said Howe's men were searching for survivors,' he sighed. 'I don't know; if I believe it might be worse later. What if she got out but died after? What if Howe's men catch up with her?'

He shook his head. He'd been thinking about this since the barkeep had mentioned the hunt. There was every chance she could have gotten out of Highever and fled but if Howe caught up with her then he would have other ideas for the woman who had stonewalled her son at every opportunity. He would rather she dead then suffering continuously at his hands. He knew Thomas Howe well enough to know what he would do if he got his hands on Elissa. Discovering the extent at which she was pursued for her titles and name had only made him want to protect her all the more whether she wanted it or not. Of course, in Highever, she was safe and she protected him. Or so she teased with a sparkle and smile for him that would make him melt.

'But she could also be still out there,' ventured Daylen.

'I wouldn't know where to start looking for her if she had got out. I also couldn't think of who else would have Howe's men in a frenzied search,' he said at length. 'I think she would try to get to Ostagar if not for me then her brother at the very least, but I don't honestly know who she would turn to after that.'

'Arl Eamon as well?' asked Daylen.

Alistair shrugged. 'She might. It depends on what she knows about what happened in Ostagar,' he said. 'She could very well believe that the Warden's turned against Cailan killing us both. Although Teryn Cousland always held the Warden's in high regard.'

'If she is out there, we will find her,' said Daylen. 'If she cares as much for you as you do her, then she'll come running.'

Alistair smiled bitterly, thankful that Daylen couldn't see the expression. He doubted only because he thought he had made a mess of things in Highever. The constant poring through book after book on subjects such as politics and the economics of the Bannorn had seriously undermined the time he was able to spend with the woman he had fallen for during that crazy month in late spring. But there had been that look in her eye as they said goodbye privately in the confines of their rooms. She had been sweet, almost close to tearful as she made him promise to come home. Was it possible that he hadn't messed up what they had together? Because they had something from the moment they had looked at each other for the first time right to the moment they had last looked upon each other. Was he being too hard on himself, doubting his abilities as a husband as well as everything else he was. He'd likely never find out, because he wouldn't believe, not for a second. But he knew that already hoped and had done since discovering the motivations of Howe's men.

The day dawned read and low fogs rolled in leaving it impossible to see beyond the end of one's nose. However, it was not long before the skies cleared. As he washed on the lakeside, Alistair looked out over the lake seeing the Castle of Redcliffe rise out of the water. It was reflected in the cold, clear depts. With good time, they would make it just after nightfall and the group had agreed that it was the best option. No one felt like camping once again when there was the possibility of a decent bed and a warm meal.

Night had fallen and a ghostly orange glow lit up the road to Redcliffe. The Castle rose out of smoke after two days of travel from the Tower. Smoke, that wasn't right, thought Alistair slowing his walk to peer at the swirling mists around them. Smoke and definitely burning flesh. He turned to look at the group who were looking around with concern, their noses wrinkled up.

'Good,' he remarked, 'so it isn't just me.'

'No,' agreed Daylen frowning somewhat. 'What on Thedas is that?'

'Fish,' supplied Alistair with his usual injection of sarcastic humour, 'with a not so helpful dollop of charred remains by the smell of it.'

Frustrating as it was, there was no way to see down into the village from where they stood. It was nestled right down by the lake between the cliffs.

'Rather a lot of charred remains, do you not think?' asked Daylen. 'To make that sort of smell.'

Alistair frowned why on Thedas would Redcliffe smell like many charred remains. 'Come on,' Alistair suddenly commanded before setting off at a faster pace, moving to a jog as he started down the descent towards the path to the castle and village.

_**Redcliffe, Ferelden **_

Night fell on Redcliffe in a blaze of blood red sky; fitting for what was to come. Elissa Theirin, Princess of Ferelden, watched the last light die from the steps of the Chantry plunging the largely defenceless village into darkness. It was their third night of attacks and she knew if even if they survived tonight, they would not survive tomorrow's onslaught. The creatures attacked relentlessly, killing the untrained militia quickly and without mercy. For all her skill with a bow, she and the handful of Redcliffe Knights could not stem the flow alone. They needed something extraordinary to happen. Elissa didn't want to die here; she had woken up with the knowledge that she had a path and she would see it through. She would also thank Leliana for giving her a little faith, it wasn't enough to live for in the long term, but enough to sustain her until she reached her goal. Her hand went to the long sword strapped to her waist under her long coat; Howe's heart would pump against its blade and his blood would spill over the Cousland Crest. He would die, and she would live to hold the sword that did it. If that and aiding in stemming the flow of this Blight were her last acts then she would be glad of it. Her mission would then be complete and she would have committed to her duty as Princess and Queen-in-Waiting to Ferelden.

But in the meanwhile, she stepped down into the town square to be greeted by the men who were attempting to protect the village; all that was left after night after night of relentless attack. Thirty men and ten Knights to protect the old, women and children; the odds were not in their favour. Several of them men were rolling drunk, and she did not begrudge them that. If she could have been afforded the opportunity, Elissa might have downed a skin full of ale to get her through the night herself, but she had somehow become their leader and she was Ferelden's Princess. She had to hide her fear and worry to help these men get through the night.

She looked to her left then right. Kallian stood resolute even if she was wearing the barest leather amour. Elissa would fix that if they made it through the night, while Leliana was proud in her non Chantry issue armour. She nodded to Murdoch before pulling her bow and readying her quiver of arrows. She had been planning something to try and stem the tide after finding lantern oil in the abandoned shop. All day she had been directing the able bodied women in building pyres around the village, creating a deadly obstacle course that she would light once the signal came from the hills above. With any luck, the living dead that plagued them would burn before they got to the village.

'Line up the men on that side,' she said pointing to the hill, 'shoot and don't draw your swords until they actually reach here.'

Murdoch nodded in understanding. He'd been dubious the morning after the first attack of her taking charge but she hadn't let him stop her as she had marshalled everyone together. Knowing if they survived the night, they would not survive a fourth night she and Teagan had decided if they broke the tide tonight they would enter the castle with daybreak. It was a virtual suicide mission but after the terrible evacuation attempt the previous day, it was the only option available to them.

'Light the pyres,' she called walking into the middle of the battleground with her war hound at her heels. Within minutes the town was filled with a ghostly, flickering orange glow but at least they would be able to see what they were doing. Behind her, the sun vanished far below the mountains. Every set of eyes turned to the castle to wait.

Alistair pulled his sword from the last of the walking cadavers that had rushed them on the boarder of the town. Grimly he grabbed a rag to wipe down his blade. 'Where the hell are they coming from?'

Ahead of them Morrigan was looking up at the castle. 'Are you so dim-witted that you cannot feel that?'

Daylen was frowning. 'She is right, the veil is very thin here,' he agreed.

Alistair was looking down at the village that was glowing orange with burning pyres. People had survived down there and the sounds of battle were echoing up from the main village. 'We have to get down there first,' said Alistair sheathing his sword. 'There isn't much we can do on our own in there.'

'Must we?' enquired Morrigan. 'They do not need our help. If they are meant to survive they will.'

Wynne glared at the apostate. 'We should aim to help everyone we can, it will only help us in finding allies,' she said firmly. 'If there is fighting down there then there will be people who need healing magic.'

'If you are to be so insistent then,' she huffed. 'I do not see much point to dying in this place. Like that Tower it is no doubt some caged mage who has no idea what they have done.'

Alistair sighed under his breath. Morrigan had been making snide remarks about caged mages since leaving the Mage's Tower. 'Fine, go back to the Wilds, least we have to listen to you go on and on about how much more superior you are to the rest of us,' he said before making his way down the cliff side lane with the other two in tow. As much as he would never insist the apostate leave them, he was happy to remind her every once in a while that she didn't have to stay. While her magic was formidable and not to be trifled with, Alistair didn't like her one bit.

There were three men stood in the village square. It was soon very clear that these men were not the Arl's army but part of a hastily put together militia. 'What happened to the Arl's men?' he asked as he drew closer, hands up showing he had no intention of harming them, but the men were not so easily put at ease.

Two of the men looked at the oldest, clearly their leader. 'Killed in the attacks,' he replied, 'who are you and what do you want?'

The tone of voice was clear warning them that if they gave the wrong answer they would be attacked. 'We need to see the Arl of Redcliffe. King Cailan is dead by Loghain's treachery,' said Alistair. 'We had planned to seek help from the Teryn of Highever but he has been murdered and so we returned south here.'

The leader, a man Alistair recognised from his childhood was looking at him in the flickering fire light. 'Bann Teagan says you're dead,' Murdoch said. 'I can think of two people in this village who will be glad to hear that's not the case.' Alistair raised his eyebrows at the man who had been the Arl's steward then village mayor. Murdoch looked at his men. 'Wait here,' he said, 'anything else comes down that hill, shoot it.'

The two men nodded as Murdoch stepped away indicating that the group should follow him. 'She arrived over a week ago,' he said leading the way through the village. Evidence of battle everywhere; cadavers much like those they had fought at the top of the hill were lying in the street. There was no sign of anyone who had been living at the start of the night being dead in the streets. 'I'll admit I wasn't convinced by her for one second, but it seems Her Highness has a way of proving herself.' He chuckled a little ruefully as they reached the main battle.

A small group man held a line again the oncoming dead. They were a mix of the Redcliffe knights and the militia. Further back, stood beside one of the many pyres were more people with flaming arrows but the only person Alistair could really see. Tall for a woman, but not anywhere near as tall as he, Elissa Theirin always stood at her tallest when she was shoot; it was for better aiming she claimed. With a lit arrow, she had taken her aim and let it fly over the heads of the front line. The others followed suit felling the invading cadavers. Alistair looked back at Murdoch.

'She's been leading the defence against these things since they first attacked,' he explained. 'Unfortunately, there isn't much to show for it after the evacuation attempt of yesterday. The creatures attacked with everyone out in the open. We lost most people.'

Another flurry of arrows let lose over the heads of the line. As they did so, Alistair felt a pull of magic and from behind, Morrigan sent out a spell that webbed under the feet of the Redcliffe men to the invading force who turned to ice, freezing them in place. The line froze and looked around utterly confused. The archers dropped their aims, bar one who pulled her bow back tight throwing a shattering shot at the frozen enemy.

Elissa's arrow hit and the cadaver exploded covering the line of confused men in pieces of frozen putrid flesh. The men looked back, looking at the man who was clearly leading them who gave a signal and they spread out using the their swords to smash their immobile enemies while the archers followed Elissa's example firing aimed, powerful shots around the men.

Elissa was the only one who did not. She had clearly turned to find the source of the spell that had saved them hard toil but, unsurprisingly, her eyes were fixed on him. Facing him full now, he could see in the flickering light of the bonfire how gaunt and careworn she was. Yet as he looked at her; hair lank, a huge gash above her eyebrow and her eyes flickering with so much raw emotion as she processed what she was seeing, Alistair had never thought she looked so beautiful.

Without a word, he started walking towards her. Elissa did not move bar for the fact she was shaking. Given how close to the burning fire she was, it was unlikely to be shaking from the cold. As he got closer, he breathed out her name and she finally blinked tears escaping from her eyes but she was smiling. Then she sobbed before running forward into his arms.

Hard metal plate was not the nicest thing for anyone to be pressed against, but Elissa did not care. Alistair caught her and held her tightly. 'Please tell me you're really here,' she said desperately willing herself to think this through for a moment before she let a crack in her heart heal.

'I could say the same of you,' he replied and Elissa pulled away enough to look him in the eye.

In his eyes was the same war she was fighting, relief and not quite believing. She swallowed before smiling tightly. As he had clearly survived Ostagar then he would have endured the same as she these past weeks, believing that she was dead while she believed the same of him. Elissa nodded. 'I'm here, I got out,' she said pressing a hand to his cheek. She frowned at the soft stubble growing beneath her hand and Alistair looked in concern at her bloodied and bruised knuckles.

'As did I,' he said although how he was going to relay the true story to Elissa, he did not know. What she would make of a Witch of the Wilds, he did not know but he would not keep it from her.

'Well this is all very romantic,' said Kallian from behind her. 'But I feel as if I should point out that we are still under attack.'

Trust Kallian to break the moment into reality, but it did feel more real as Elissa looked in the direction of the oncoming battle whilst still in Alistair's arms. Why would she dream of being in battle when her previous wistful imaginings of reunion had been a little more intimate? They certainly hadn't be stood surrounded by gobsmacked men and women some of who were actually staring. It hit her why they were staring. Alistair was here, and so was she and that meant… Well, at least she hadn't completely lost her head.

She looked back at Alistair. 'We need your help, we're down to about twenty five men,' she said. 'We need to beat back whatever this is so we can enter the castle with dawn.'

Alistair looked back at one of his companions that Elissa had only briefly registered. Looking now, she saw that he was a mage with glassed over eyes. He bowed gracefully to them both. 'Tell us what you need.'

Elissa disengaged from Alistair. 'Murdoch, please return to your post. Send up the signal if you need us,' she said, falling into the role that had left her in charge of this defence. 'Alistair, help the line,' he agreed, 'and Wynne? Is that you?'

The elder mage bow her head. 'Indeed, my Lady,' she said.

'We have men who have been sorely injured in a makeshift infirmary. Can you ease their pains and assist in protecting them until we can move them to the Chantry?' she asked of the woman she remembered as the mage who had healed her wounds after that encounter with Howe in the Rose Garden.

Wynne nodded her head and Murdoch showed her the way back towards the village centre. Elissa turned back to the mages. 'Stand back with the archers. We can protect you while you cast.'

The woman looked dubiously at the group of archers readying themselves for another round of battle. 'And be hit with stray arrows?'

Elissa frowned. 'Have it your way, I shall not be responsible if you stand in plain sight and get hit.'

'Ignore her, she does it on purpose,' muttered Alistair.

Elissa nodded looking back at her husband. _Her husband. _He was still here, not some apparition and she felt just a little more life spark in her veins. For weeks she had been living in some terrible trance and once again, just in the nick of time Alistair Theirin walked in waking her up. She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his in a quick chaste kiss that warmed all of her.

They didn't linger together, not with the living dead running for them. Elissa ran back towards her place, pausing only to pick her bow up where she had dropped in shock. Kallian was shaking her head and beside her Leliana was smiling widely. Elissa wasn't going to hear the end of miracles from the Maker and it seemed that Kallian had already received her first wave of chatter on the matter from the Sister. Behind her the other mage walked beside her, taking a position just ahead of her to cast. Elissa left him to it; he clearly knew what sort of range he needed to cast his spell.

'In the future can you keep your praying for miracles at a minimum,' Kallian muttered glaring at Leliana.

Elissa pulled an arrow. 'I rather think my wish fulfilment is done for an entire life time, if not longer,' she said to the elf.

'You hear that, Leliana,' said Kallian, 'not a miracle, wish fulfilment.'

Elissa rolled her eyes at the pair of them. 'Ladies, perhaps you could save this for when they are dead?' she asked taking aim at the horde of cadavers.


	8. The Queen of Rogues III

_AN: This one took a while. I've been working on it for over a week now, so I hope it is enjoyed. Be warned it's long. Very long. All mistakes are my own. _

_**27th Harvestmere, 9:30. Redcliffe, Ferelden.**_

The battle was hard won. Elissa felt the ever-increasingly familiar ache of battle take up residence in her limbs as she looked around the battlefield. As far as she was aware tonight was the first night that none of the militia or knights had been killed. Some of them would never fully recover from the crippling wounds they had received, but they still had their lives. In the pre-dawn light, breathes were held for first true light. It would not be long before she could declare the night a victory.

Elissa looked over at Alistair as he walked over to her. He had fought hard through the night with those who took the first line of attack. She had always known he was well trained in battle, but seeing it for real had been slightly mesmerising. The whole situation had her heart thumping; reunited in battle had to be the worst thing that could have happened. She feared she would see him cut down; she had seen plenty of well-armed men overwhelmed by the creatures in the past three nights and it would be just her luck. But his near constant presence soothed her fears and now she could really see him she could see that he was as worn thin by this all as she was. Their eyes met and the hard mask he had been wearing through the night broke away, revealing an honest expression of relief for her. She must have looked terrible; the slow healing wound from Highever aside, Elissa knew she was covered in cuts and bruises for the past few nights.

'Thank you,' she said to Alistair when he was close enough.

'Anything for you, you know,' he said placing his hand on her shoulder squeezing gently. 'Are you okay?' Elissa raised her eyebrows. 'Right, stupid question.'

Daylen, she had caught his name at some point in the night walk over using his staff to guide him. 'The presence has retreated back to the castle, we should be safe for now,' he said.

'They won't believe they are safe until the sun rises,' Elissa said, indicating the knights and militia.

'Are they fools?' asked the other mage, Morrigan.

'No,' replied Elissa, 'they're scared. In less than a week, they've seen an unknown force attack their village killing their family and friends. If they want daylight to comfort them then so be it.'

Morrigan rolled her eyes and turned her back on the group. Alistair shook his head. 'Ignore her,' he advised his wife.

'Noted,' said Elissa as the sky began to turn orange. 'Again.'

She turned in the direction of the light to watch as Alistair drew closer to her, pulling her into a one armed hug. Every eye was on the skyline and as the sun peeked the men cheered, whooping aloud they had won the battle that none were sure they would. Elissa turned her attention back to Alistair. 'I'm glad you arrived when you did,' she said before throwing her arms around his neck. Her eyes looked up to the sky because she wondered had the Maker heard her prayers, felt her desires and need to be reunited with this man. It didn't matter, as she closed her eyes to savour the moment regardless of that the fact the harsh edges of his breast plate hurt her bruised body.

The doors to the Chantry opened amid cheers from the militia and Elissa thought she might remember Teagan's look when he saw Alistair forever. He stared, gaped really before recovering his senses.

'Alistair,' he shouted 'by the Maker, I was sure you were dead. I was in Denerim when Loghain returned.'

An angry expression stole over his face for a moment. 'I'm sorry Teagan,' he said quietly, 'but Cailan is dead.'

The older man nodded his head. 'Yes, thank you,' he said, 'I imagined if he had survived he'd have made it known by now.'

Alistair nodded. 'Loghain betrayed Cailan on the battlefield, he withdrew his troops when he should have charged,' the new King explained as Elissa drew closer tucking her arm into his. She watched his expression, that hard mask back in place. He looked down at her and she squeezed his arm. 'He had ordered me to ensure the Beacon was lit so that Loghain would charge.'

'It wasn't your fault,' said Elissa quietly, still looking at him, watching the swirling grief in his eyes.

'He knew, Liss,' he said, still looking at her, 'he said he had pushed Loghain's final limits of patience and he still went out there.'

She pressed her lips together and looked away. Ever the glory seeker Cailan had gone out with a bang; she clicked her tongue with irritation at the boy who had to be more glorious than his father. 'It's not your fault, Alistair,' she said softly, understanding the lingering sense that he should have done more.

'No but it feels like it,' he said.

Elissa knew that feeling as well. She patted his arm unsure of what to say instead she cut to business. 'I need to organise getting the wounded into the Chantry, then we need to find a way into that castle, Teagan.'

'Yes, indeed,' said Teagan, 'least we let this poison continue. You still think we should strike now? Before you rest?'

'I do not know I could rest,' she said, 'I think it better we act now.'

'Her Highness is correct,' said Daylen, stepping forward and bowing to the Bann. 'The presence will be weak now; if we have the strength then we should attack now.'

Teagan looked at the man frowning. 'And you are?'

'Daylen Amell of the Grey Wardens,' he said bowing.

Elissa raised her eyebrows, she had not known he was a Grey Warden. 'Yet another lie of Loghain's?' She sighed. 'I take it you were also tasked with assisting in lighting this Beacon, hence your survival?'

'Indeed I was, and a good job too, he would never have made it through the hordes of darkspawn without me,' he said, smirking slightly.

'That's debateable,' muttered Alistair. 'At least I can see what I'm doing.'

Elissa was looking at Daylen. 'You are certain that the presence is weak?' she asked him.

'I can feel it has lessened power over the area. Morrigan?'

The other mage turned her attention to the group. 'He is correct, we would have the advantage if we can approach unseen.'

Teagan smiled, although it was a grim smile. 'Unseen I can muster,' he explained to the group. 'There is a secret passage we can use which will bring us into the dungeon's of the castle.'

'A secret passage, isn't that a little convenient?' asked Daylen.

'Just about every castle in Ferelden has secret passages,' said Elissa quietly tucking a lock of hair back. 'Let's get those who need aid to the Chantry and we'll regroup.'

Walking into the Chantry, Elissa looked around at the misery. Terrified people clustered together, injured militia men lined the wall, the Chantry Sisters were offering solace in the form of Canticles. Elissa found herself wondering what was the point. Her little miracle aside, the Maker clearly wasn't about to wake up and offer Ferelden an out. As much as Teagan and others might think, Alistair being alive was not the easy way out. Loghain would not back down, there would be another excuse for him to hold on – Alistair's inexperience no doubt. If anything, politically, Alistair surviving made everything more difficult as Ferelden would already be divided over the loss of Cailan and Loghain move to regency. She collapsed in a chair in the little aside set up for her and cupped her head in her hand.

'You can't keep going,' said Teagan softly having followed her in. 'You're exhausted. You should let the others enter the castle. '

She looked up and sighed. Yes, she was exhausted, but so was everyone else. 'I can't do that, Teagan. Whatever ripped through this village, I want to look it in the eye.'

'I understand, Your Majesty,' he said pouring some healing potion on a cloth and offering it to her.

Elissa took it, dabbing it her forehead before glancing up at the Bann. She could tell him that there was no need for formality, but there was precedence to follow now. Even more so now. At least he looked apologetic. 'I don't feel very majestic right now,' she quipped, as she hunched over against the pain of her older slow healing injury from Highever. 'I think I might be one of those living dead actually.' She knew the wound had cut her deep and still ached from her not being able to rest. 'Give me a few minutes to compose myself,' she said.

However, Teagan had more to say and stood looking at her. 'You know what this means?'

She knew exactly what it meant. 'Nothing is settled, Teagan.'

'You know that is not true,' countered Teagan crossing his arms. 'He is the King now.'

'I know that,' she said, 'but the Bannorn will be up in arms and Loghain will not be without support,' she sighed and pressed her fingers to her eyes. She shook her head. 'We need to find out if Eamon is alive before we decide how to act.'

She bent down to rummage around in the pack she had acquired on her journey and pulled out a potion designed to give her an extra boost. Elissa had been keeping it concealed as she had obtained it in nefarious circumstances. She knocked back a mouthful, letting the warm liquid seep into her veins before she stowed it away.

'I take it you have a plan?' she asked the Bann, standing up tightening her buckles on her sword belt. 'Once we get inside. I suppose we do now have an advantage we didn't before.' Teagan looked at her with a questioning glance. 'If this is magic,' she said pushing open the doors, 'then we've just had a fully trained Templar dropped into our laps.'

Alistair looked up having clearly heard her. 'Nice to know I am some uses.'

'Indeed,' muttered Morrigan, 'I was beginning to think your soul reason for existence was to confound us with your stupidity.'

Everyone convened beside a windmill that stood on a small outcrop. Teagan looked at the eclectic group assembled and it did not seem possible that between them they could do this. In fact, the only plausible fighters were the Templar-trained King and blinded battle-mage Daylen. Yet before him were a group that had joined forces just last night and proven themselves more than formidable, better than him anyway. With him stood Ser Perth who seemed to be just as equally doubtful of them. While Elissa had proven herself to all in Redcliffe, there was a lingering sense of dubiousness about Leliana and Kallian, not to mention the whole new world of trouble the apostate brought with her. But, Teagan reasoned, they all had the same goal so it was best to leave them be for the moment.

'The secret tunnel exits here from the castle,' he explained, 'my signet ring opens the door from this side.'

Daylen frowned. 'Why just the signet ring?'

'Traditionally it does not to do to have the enemy ambush you from your own escape route,' said Elissa quietly. 'Highever's could be locked from either side in such a manner, once you were out you use the token to seal the door preventing your attackers from following you.' She smiled tightly looking at Daylen. 'It was not so long ago that Ferelden was warring Terynirs fighting for most land. Most of the old seats have such routes, doors and traps.' She looked at Teagan. 'Are there traps?'

'Not as far as I am aware. The tunnel runs under the lake coming out in the lower dungeon, from there we can get into the castle proper,' he explained twisting the ring on his finger.

'Teagan.'

A hoarse Orlesian voice rung out from the path to the castle. Everyone turned to see the often prim, very proper Arlessa of Redcliffe running down towards the group but she only had eyes for Teagan. While the Arlessa was carefully presented, there was evidence of great strain in her face.

'Teagan, you have to come with me,' she said laying her hands on his. 'Please it's Connor.'

Elissa stiffened, crossing her arms over her chest stealing a glance with Alistair who subtly shrugged. Elissa stepped forward. 'Is that wise, my Lady?' Her eyes on the Arlessa but flicking to the Castle. 'There is a great evil in your home.'

Isolde turned her attention to Elissa, her eyes flicking over her, not recognising her. 'And who are you to question my request?' her voice was almost a snarl, but Elissa had to concede she did not look anywhere near how the Arlessa was used to seeing her.

Isolde, Arlessa of Redcliffe was used to the woman who was versed in the manners of Court. The dirty, bruised Elissa Theirin was not someone Isolde would recognise. Elissa turned back to look at Alistair. He was warring with himself; his dislike of Arlessa against his need to know that someone he thought fondly of was well.

'Lady Isolde, please, we didn't know any one was alive in there,' said Alistair calmly standing beside his wife. 'But we want to help however we can. Does Arl Eamon still live?'

She looked at him. 'Alistair, of all the people. What are you doing here?'

'Isolde,' warned Teagan as Elissa became stiffer, standing just a little straighter.

Alistair placed an hand on Elissa's forearm, breaking her concentration on Isolde.

'Isolde, Cailan is dead, Teryn Cousland has been murdered and we need Eamon's help,' said Teagan. 'A lot has happened.'

The Orlesian noble hung her head. 'I am sorry Your Highnesses, but I had no idea, news has been scare since…' she trailed off.

'Since what?' asked Daylen. 'What is it that plagues your halls, my Lady? A vile evil descended on this village.'

'I do not know,' she replied, all the fight gone from her looking over the group that was assembled before her. Her eyes lingered distrustfully on the mages. 'I only know it has killed everyone bar myself, Connor and Eamon.'

'Eamon lives?' asked Teagan, his eyes going wide. 'Thank the Maker.'

'He does but he is deathly ill,' said Isolde. 'There was an imposter, a mage who poisoned him. I discovered he was working under the orders of Teryn Loghain.' Her voice was desperate, that of a heartbroken woman.

But Elissa wasn't paying attention anymore. She swore under breath and everyone looked at her. 'They are working together,' she muttered.

'Indeed, this seems to go much further than even I thought,' said Teagan grimly. 'It seems like such an unusual alliance.'

'It is,' agreed Elissa.

Beside her, Alistair looked between his wife and not-quite uncle. 'Lost me here,' he admitted.

'It appears Loghain and Howe are working together,' said Elissa.

'To think that Loghain might have had a hand in the sacking of Highever,' Teagan shook his head. 'It does not bare thinking about.'

'They will pay for their crimes, Elissa,' said Alistair, reaching over and taking her hands. 'If it is the last thing I do as King of Ferelden, I will see them hang for this.'

Elissa nodded her head and smiled weakly at him squeezing his hand back. 'I know.'

Teagan nodded his agreement before continuing. 'For the moment, we must get in that Castle; Eamon is the one last chance we have of swaying a Landsmeet against Loghain.'

'Please,' begged Isolde, 'every moment we waste is a threat to Connor's life. Teagan, you must come with me. If anyone else were to enter the castle they would be killed and all our lives would be forfeit. It only let me come because Connor is so afraid; I thought if you were with me, we could calm him.'

'This is foolish,' said Elissa in an undertone that she hoped Isolde did not hear. 'You will get yourself killed.'

'And yet, there is no other way,' replied Teagan just as quietly before turning back to his sister-in-law. 'Isolde, if you will give me and Their Highnesses a moment, we need to discuss the best way to protect the village while I am gone.'

Isolde nodded. 'I will wait by the gates,' she said. 'Please, be quick.'

As Isolde turned to walk back up the hill, Elissa rounded on Teagan. 'This is madness, you can't go in there with her Teagan,' she said. 'It's a trap, she is hiding something, I can tell and you could very well be walking to your death.'

'Yes, but if we don't take this chance,' he said, shaking his head. 'Listen to me, Alistair, Elissa. You should enter the Castle by the secret entrance and try and find a way to stop this evil. I will distract it for as long as possible. You must get Eamon and yourselves out alive, the rest of us are expendable.'

Elissa met Teagan's eye. 'You have proven that it is not the case, Teagan.'

He arched an eyebrow at her unexpected compliment, particularly when he was of the opinion that she was the one who had led them through the horrors of the past few nights. Cailan had made an excellent decision when he had decided to marry her to Alistair.

'If I can get us all through this,' she said, 'I will, but if I can't, then I will get Eamon out of there.'

Teagan pulled his signet ring off his finger. 'You are quite the extraordinary woman, Elissa, I pray that the Maker sees fit that we should meet again,' he said placing the ring in her hand before bowing to her, then Alistair and the rest of the group.

'So I guess you are in charge,' said Daylen after Teagan had gone through the gates.

'It would seem that way, wouldn't it?' replied Elissa turning to face the group. 'Let's get this over with.'

It was an impressive feat; Elissa decided as the group made their way down the tunnel. According to Teagan, it would come out in the lower dungeons and the journey should take no more than twenty minutes. Before long, they reached an upward slope and headed back up towards the castle proper. They moved in the dark, having opted against any light to take any advantage for surprise they could. Apart from their echoing footsteps, the only sound that could be heard was that of the drip of water.

Kallian leant in closely to Elissa. 'What if the tunnel collapses? We're right under the lake.'

'It's stood since the fall of the Tevinter Imperium in Ferelden,' muttered Elissa. 'I doubt it will suddenly collapse now.'

'It's not natural, walking under the lake like this,' she replied looking around suspiciously.

'Perhaps not,' agreed Elissa grimly. 'But I don't fancy our chances of storming the gates.'

'I thought we were supposed to be silent,' hissed Daylen. 'Not prattling on about whether this tunnel will collapse.'

Before long they hit an upward slope and Elissa silently thanked the Maker as she rubbed her side that had been injured in the attack at Highever. Although she didn't like to admit it, she didn't like dark tunnels and neither did Cassius who had been pressed up to her leg the entire journey. She had seen the dog rip apart full armed men to protect her, but the when the night was black the dog snuck in close and refused to leave her side. Soon a spark of light appeared ahead of them.

'Do you hear that?' Daylen asked causing everyone to come to a standstill.

For a moment, only the sound of a drip-drip of the damp tunnel was obvious. Then a voice rang out, echoing against the cold stone. All eyes were forward; a growl ripped from Cassius as weapons were loosened from their holders and sheaths. Elissa's hand went not for her bow but sword and dagger. Leliana did the same as the moved up the tunnel, shifting seamlessly into a formation that would offer them all the best chance of dealing with their enemies effectively.

As predicted, they came out into the lower dungeon where several undead creatures were pounding at a metal cell door. Someone was clearly cowering inside. Breaking out into light, the group began their attack on the creatures that rushed them. Elissa took the left flank bring down two of the cadavers with her quick sword work. Beside her Alistair cut through the creatures that had targeted him. She had only seen him fight in combat outside of controlled conditions once, and that had not really been comparable to this. He turned to check on her to see her watching him, here two dispatched as Cassius ripped into the last creature.

Elissa shrugged at his questioning look. 'I've been practising,' she told him with a wry smile. 'As have you.'

He was about to reply when the person cowering in the cells scrabbled over. 'Hello? Is someone out there? I thought everyone was dead.'

'Well, well, well,' sneered Daylen. 'I might have known. Why aren't you dead?'

'The cell door, they couldn't get passed,' explained the robed, haggard man. 'But what are you doing here, Daylen?'

Daylen chuckled darkly. 'I think the more interesting question is what are you doing down here, Jowan?'

'Clearly he is the mage the Arlessa mentioned,' said Alistair. 'I take you are old friends.'

'In the loosest sense possible,' replied Daylen. 'This man is a Blood Mage.'

'Truly?' muttered Morrigan.

'He's certainly not living up to my expectations,' murmured Elissa sharing an unexpectedly friendly glance with Morrigan. Jowan looked like he wouldn't say boo to a goose let alone draw his own blood and call upon the demons of the Fade. 'Why are you still down here? If you're a blood mage couldn't you have just taken the door off?'

'And run head long into those things?' he asked. 'No thank you.'

'Oh,' said Elissa drawing out the word. For all the Chantry preached against the evil of Magic, she wondered what they would say of the bundled, shaking mage before them. 'You're a cowardly Blood Mage. Seen it all now.'

'Liss,' hissed Alistair, pulling her back a little bit.

'Believe me, My Lady, this man is more dangerous than he looks, you should stay back for your own safety,' said Daylen softly before turning back to Jowan. 'So you poisoned the Arl?'

'I did,' replied Jowan his voice defeated. 'Loghain promised to set things right with the circle if I did this for him.'

Alistair clicked his tongue. 'Loghain doesn't have that sort of power,' he said, 'the nobility of Ferelden have very little power to do anything within the Circle, even a King. Why are the dead rising, what did you do?'

'Me?' asked the Mage, his voice going high pitched with indignation. 'I didn't do this; I'll admit to poisoning the Arl, but this, this was not me.'

'Then who?' asked Elissa from behind Alistair. 'Is there yet another mage within this Castle?' Her voice boarding on incredulity.

'Yes.'

'Oh?' muttered Daylen, 'This should be good. Who are you to blame your transgressions on this time?'

'The Arl's son, Connor,' said the Mage. 'That is the other reason I am here. Connor had been showing signs and the Arlessa, well, she did not want to give up her son to the Circle.'

'Be careful of what lies you utter,' said Alistair darkly, 'you are an apostate, a blood mage and a poisoner.' The threat was detectable in his tone.

It was not something that Elissa had heard before but he sounded almost kingly, ready to pass down a sentence. She supposed the last month had taught him the need as he had no doubt decided what to do about Loghain and Howe once they were back in Denerim. Although she had known it since seeing him alive, it had not really sunk in that Alistair, her sweet Chantry raised Prince was now King dealing with one of the worse betrayals in Ferelden since Calenhad united the warring Terynirs.

In the cell, to his credit, the mage shuffled back into the cell while Daylen glowered more than Alistair did. 'So you seek to blame this on a nine year old boy?' asked the Grey Warden.

'I, no, but it wasn't me,' said the mage, stammering under the gaze of Daylen and Alistair. 'Connor is too young to have gained any real sort of power, but if he was desperate, perhaps he could have done something.'

Daylen tutted loudly before turning around to face Alistair. 'What should we do with him?' he asked. 'I am certain he knows more of what is going on here than he is letting on.'

'I wouldn't suggest leaving him here, he could escape,' replied Alistair.

'The other option is to kill him,' replied Daylen.

Alistair frowned. 'A little drastic at this point,' he said. 'He might be of some use later.'

'I say we leave him in his cell,' said Elissa. 'He can't get out the way we came in, I made sure of that, so he'll have to go through 'those things' if he has any chance of escaping and he seems reluctant at best.'

Daylen turned back to Jowan, the smile on face was cold, nasty. 'You get to stay here and stew,' he said. 'You leave, I kill you and if you've lied about the Arl's son, I'll kill you.'

'Fine, Daylen, I'll just wait here for you to pass judgement on me like the Templars,' muttered Jowan, turning his back on the group.

'In this case, Blood Mage, you deserve it,' replied Daylen turning and heading for the door out of the dungeons.

Once away from the dungeon and well out of earshot, Wynne spoke up. 'Are you sure we should just leave him there,' she enquired. 'You know better than anyone how dangerous he actually is.'

'If he helps us, then he will have earned some redemption surely, everyone deserves that chance,' said Leliana.

'There is only one path where Blood Mage is involved Sister Leliana,' said Daylen grimly, 'and Jowan has chosen that for himself with full knowledge of what will happen to him. For once, I have no problem in the law being applied with full force, Blood Magic destroys life all around it. As a Sister, you should know that.'

Leliana hung her head sadly. 'I just believe everyone should be given second chances to redeem themselves.'

'If Jowan helps us, then he can face the Maker knowing he tried to right his wrongs,' said Wynne quietly.

She had never seen a Revenant before; she had read about them, her interest in magic piqued after her marriage to Alistair in desire to understand what he had been taught to defend the population from. Demons were bad, she decided as the damnable creature had pulled her into its clutches and nearly cleaved her head in half. Alistair had pulled her from its clutches and took it's head from its shoulders but not before the giant sword it had wielded managed to gaze her. The cut across her arm was deep and she was quickly swarmed by a disapproving Kallian and a concerned Wynne

'You shouldn't have attempted that,' said Kallian as Alistair held Elissa's arm steady while Wynne tended to it with a magical potion. 'You could have been killed.'

'I wasn't attempting anything,' protested Elissa who had thought herself to be out of harms reach while she fired her poisoned arrows at the creature. 'Besides, like I would have just stood by and watched you lot take the attack alone. It just sucked me in, sort of.' She frowned at Alistair. 'Why didn't you stop it with your Templar-y powers?' she asked him in an accusatory tone as the other joined them.

He smiled a little ruefully at Elissa. 'I did, but it resisted. A Revenant is a demon much more powerful than any mage,' he said softly before dropping his voice to a low whisper. 'I'm sorry are you okay?' he asked, taking her hand on her uninjured side.

'Fine,' she replied, wincing as Wynne tied the bandage.

'I'll take a better look at it when we're sure I won't have worse injuries to heal,' said Wynne, picking up her bag.

'Thank you,' said Elissa, before she tugged Alistair's hand. 'Come on,' she encouraged, 'we've got to help Teagan.'

'Are you sure?' he asked her.

Elissa held up her arm and looked critically at the bandage. 'It's not the worse injury I've endured, and I think my prospects of survival are distinctly higher than the worst I've had.'

Alistair looked at her critically, but she shook her head. 'Teagan,' she reminded him. 'Other problems later.'

Reluctantly, Alistair nodded his head before pressing a kiss to her forehead. The royal couple walked back towards the courtyard and Elissa began issuing orders so that that they and the village would have the best protection should anything go wrong within the castle proper.

'How could you be so stupid,' spat Elissa as she pulled Teagan up, her eyes glaring at Isolde. 'You should have said, you, you,' she was at a loss for words as she jerked the Bann to his feet with a pull harder than she intended. She reined in the desire to kick something, someone, preferably Isolde. 'You might as well have signed Connor's death sentence with your actions.' She helped Teagan to a chair. 'I'm sorry, I was left with little choice,' she said to him, apologising for knocking him out.

Teagan waved her off. 'It's fine, but how did you learn to hit like that?'

She shrugged. 'You've seen my brother, yes?' she asked him with a smile, examining the cut on his forehead where she had smashed a fist that was holding her dagger into the side of his face. 'You've also heard of my many encounters with 'gentlemen' with an eye for marriage?'

'I heard you had special moves for them,' he remarked with a chuckle. He ran his hands into his hair attempting to clear his head before looking at Isolde. 'Not ones they would particularly like.'

The Arlessa of Redcliffe had cowered in the battle, which hadn't helped Elissa's fraying nerves. Her mother, older than Isolde, had donned armour and made every Howe solider she found in their home pay for daring to cross the Couslands. Isolde was a sobbing pathetically on the step of the dais. 'Please,' she said, her voice begging, 'please don't kill my boy.'

Alistair sighed heavily. 'There may be no choice,' he said sadly, shaking his head. 'Elissa is right you might have signed Connor's death sentence.' He turned to Daylen. 'It might be worth speaking to your friend in the dungeon.'

'He's not my friend,' snarled Daylen.

'Still, it might be worth it,' said Alistair, 'he was telling the truth about Connor, he might continue to give us useful information if he thinks it will help his situation.'

Elissa raised her eyebrows wondering once again where her Chantry raised Prince had vanished to. She swallowed and put her attention back onto Bann Teagan who had also noticed the change. He gave her a sympathetic glance but she shrugged it off with a smile. 'It was bound to happen,' she remarked as she stood up.

'Ser Perth, if you could bring the prisoner up?' Teagan asked of the knight that had followed the others in.

Elissa moved over to sit on the table at the side of the room with Alistair casually coming to stand beside her. They looked at each other before Alistair sat down with a heavy sigh. 'I just can't believe it,' he said speaking quietly enough not to be overheard. 'Connor a mage and possessed by a demon. We may have to kill the child.'

He spoke carefully and Elissa nodded slowly. 'I know,' she sighed looking over at the quivering Isolde. Not even Teagan was offering the woman comfort. 'I don't want to see him die, but Maker knows, if he's an abomination then it's the only way.'

'It will be,' offered Daylen. 'I'm sorry; I know it's hard when it's a child.'

Elissa only nodded before she pushed her hands into her filthy hair wishing this horrible situation would just go away.

'I will say, whatever Jowan has to say will be questionable,' continued Daylen. 'His crimes within the tower were not inconsiderable and personally affected my life. How many more pies will Loghain have his fingers in by the end of this.'

Teagan looked up. 'I think we all dread the answer to that now.'

'He promised he could help us,' muttered Isolde. 'How could I have been so foolish?'

'You just wished to save Connor, but Maker, Isolde, why didn't you go to Eamon?' asked Teagan.

The older woman sniffed. 'I did not want to give up my child,' she said in her thick Orlesian accent. 'Eamon would have insisted he go to the Circle.'

'I wouldn't have been so sure on that front,' said Elissa looking up. 'You aren't the first mother of a Noble child to discover their child has magic in Ferelden. Maker knows that many have kept their magical children away from the Circle. Most of us are descended from Mages hidden from the Circle and operating at court. Money and Lyrium can make even the most devout Templar's turn their eye if it is in regular supply.'

Teagan chuckled. 'I had wondered if you were aware of that, but I suppose your father wouldn't conceal your past from you,' he said before looking at Isolde. 'But Her Majesty is correct; you should have spoken with Teryn Cousland.'

Before any further input into this line of questioning could go any further the doors opened again and Ser Perth led the mage in. Nervous, dirty and a little thin from lack of food. His eyes skipped over everyone as he was brought forward.

'What have you done to my son, you filthy mage?' snarled Isolde once the door was shut. 'Creep into my house, poison my husband and unleash your demons on my child.'

'I did not summon this demon,' protested Jowan, 'I swear it. On my life.'

'Unfortunately, your life is worthless,' replied Daylen. 'Your life was forfeit when you performed Blood Magicks in the Tower to escape the Templars.'

Jowan looked at Daylen. 'Unlike you, to think so highly of our mighty protectors,' he remarked.

'Things have changed,' he said quietly. 'But not what I think of you. But shall I tell you a few things I think?' He didn't wait for an answer. 'I don't think you summoned this demon, I think your actions caused it however.'

Jowan nodded. 'I believe you are right about that, and if I can help, I will.' He looked at Daylen. 'The demon in Connor needs to be destroyed, you all know that, as well as you know that the easiest way to do that is to kill the boy. But there is another way. A mage can confront the demon in the Fade.'

Teagan frowned. 'I don't understand, is not the demon within Connor himself?'

'No,' said Daylen, 'evidence would suggest that the demon is still within the Fade and controlling him from there. By sending a Mage into the Fade we can attack the demon there without harming Connor.'

'Similarly to what happened in the Tower?' asked Alistair.

'Not quite the same, there won't be as many levels of dreams to fight though, all of you were enthralled and as adults you are distinctly more complex in your thoughts,' he explained to Alistair.

'One of you can enter the Fade, and stop this demon from hurting my boy?' asked Isolde hopefully looking between the two mages.

'Getting into the Fade is not easy, in fact, it's nigh impossible,' pointed out Wynne. 'You don't have that sort of power here Daylen.'

'We do,' said Jowan quietly. 'I can use Blood Magic, instead of the Lyrium. The ritual will require all of it though.'

Silence followed before Daylen shook his head. 'Not only are you suggesting Blood Magic, in front of a King who trained as a Templar I might add, but an actual, whole Blood Sacrifice,' he turned to Alistair. 'Did we take the wrong turning out of the Tower and end up in Tevinter?'

'Possibly,' he said a little faintly.

'I would do it,' said Isolde, 'take my blood.' She was actually holding her arm out to Jowan. 'Let me save my son.'

'Seems a good a plan as any, with a willing victim,' observed Morrigan with the nod of her head, and with it came an eruption of voices.

Everyone was speaking at once again, protesting the use of blood magic, vicious words being spoken to those who supported the idea. Then Isolde voice rang out over everyone else's. 'He is my son, it is my decision, and I will submit to this ritual to save my son. There is little any of you can do about it,' her voice firm and arrogant.

Alistair sighed. 'In case you have forgotten, Lady Isolde, I can stop both of you,' he said, 'I can keep him drained of his mana making it impossible for him to perform the ritual. I can, I believe, also have you restrained, even if this is your own home. There's been enough consorting with demon's here as it. I wouldn't usually condone slaying a child, but if it's that or Blood Magic, then I am sorry Isolde.' He shook his head sadly.

Leliana cried out. 'We can't seriously be thinking about killing a child?' the sister asked, her voice growing high pitched. 'We can't kill a child without at least finding another way, Elissa.'

Alistair was looking at Jowan. 'He said the Blood Magic was in place of Lyrium, we could petition the Circle for aid.'

Daylen looked at Alistair. 'I'm not certain it is wise in their present condition. Wynne?'

The older mage shrugged her shoulders. 'There is no reason why we cannot ask. I would much rather have Irving's opinion on all this than the word of a Blood Mage.'

Daylen was frowning with his arms crossed. 'There will be a matter of restraining the demon for nearly a week.'

'If you are intent on this course,' put in Morrigan, 'then I can keep him sleeping and perhaps the Templar can prove he did not fail his religious instruction if that fails.'

Alistair glowered at the apostate. Daylen shook his head. 'Wynne we should be able to make the return journey in much the same time it took to arrive.'

'Might I make a suggestion?' asked Elissa. 'If I could persuade you to take Kallian in Wynne's stead. I feel Wynne could assist with the injured in the village. Kallian can offer you plenty of protection.'

Teagan was looking at Elissa like she was mad. 'Is this wise?'

'It's not up for discussion,' she replied. 'Kallian, will you assist protecting Daylen in getting to and from the Tower? I would send Leliana but he doesn't seem to be the sort who needs endless chatter of devotion to the Maker.'

'Hey,' protested Leliana but Elissa threw her a smile.

'I'll need your help in the coming days, while Alistair assists with keeping Connor subdued I wish to look into why the Arlessa saw fit to send all of Redcliffe's Knights after the Urn of Sacred Ashes,' Elissa explained to the Sister. Leliana's eyes lit up at the prospect.

'I suppose,' said Kallian, 'with him not seeing we aren't taking the horses?'

Daylen smiled. 'I can assure you, my Lady Kallian, I am more than apt at riding horses. In fact, it would be a blessing.'

'Then they are yours for the journey,' Elissa got back to her feet. 'What are we doing with him?'

'If I can help with stop Connor attack again, then I would like to,' said Jowan. 'If you will let me assist you, Morrigan?'

The witch nodded her head. 'If you must.'

'Alistair?' protested Teagan.

The Templar-King raised his eyebrows before looking at Elissa who unhelpfully shrugged. He frowned. 'If he so much as twitches in the wrong direction I'll drain him and kill him, her too.'

Morrigan threw him a disgusted look that was a challenge in every respect, but she said nothing. Instead Elissa intervened. 'Your Grace, if you could show Alistair and the Mages to your son so that we can begin to help them.'

The Arlessa curtseyed. 'As you wish, Your Majesty,' she said as Elissa trying and failing to ignore her new title.


	9. The Queen of Rogues IV

What's that? I got a beta? Oh, blessed relief. Thanks to Darkly Tranquil for offering to help and really helping. It is much appreciated. So, I thought the last chapter was an impressive length, but this one is epic. Just another warning to you, this chapter is NSFW several times over.

Note 2: Sorry, this is just a repost only I accidently deleted this chapter instead of just replacing it. Fixed the line breaks. I don't realised they were broken. Sorry all, nothing new and exciting here - apart from a new note from me to say sorry that is.

_**28th Harvestmere, 9:30. Redcliffe, Ferelden.**_

It was late or more accurately early morning. Alistair was tired and he knew he should sleep. However, knowing that Connor could turn on them in a second left him less than eager to be caught unprepared, which resulted in serious injuries that could kill you if you were not careful. Still for all his concern for the nine-year-old boy and just want he could do to them all, that was not whom Alistair watched. Instead, it was Ferelden's new Queen as she slept. He had found her dozing in a day room surrounded by the papers she had begun pursuing and had taken her to bed. When he had pulled her chemise free, he had seen what she had meant when she had said that the injury to her arm was not the worse she had endured since he had left her.

Judging by the length and width of the wound that now scared her stomach, Elissa should be dead. However, so should he. He had seen the scar where the arrow had pierced his armour, puncturing his lung has possibly his heart. It was strange intervention that had given them both the chance to survive.

Wynne had examined the injury and announced that it was healing well. She had also seen to Elissa's arm injury and the cut across her forehead, but Elissa would remain bruised and achy for days. With any luck they wouldn't be going anywhere for a few days anyway. He didn't want to put Elissa in the danger they would be in searching for the Grey Warden allies, but if he knew anything about his wife it was that she would not sit by while others did the work. While she had returned to Highever, she had confessed that she would rather be at Ostagar helping but her family would not hear of it, and neither would he. He had wanted her safe for as long as possible. Only she hadn't been safe, as an enemy had closed in from the shadows.

Yawning, Alistair turned and headed for the door of the guest room, which had an adjoining day room. She had requested it, which he had thought a little strange until he realised that she wanted somewhere they could talk without interruption. He opened the door and Cassius trotted in jumping up on the bed beside his mistress. He couldn't quite make himself believe that she would be okay without him, but the moment Cassius nuzzled into her, he knew the dog would do for the moment.

Alistair walked back to the family quarters of the castle. It was strange being here and free to go where he wished. The last time he had been in Redcliffe, he had been a boy no older than the demon enthralled Connor, and his place had most certainly been at the bottom of the ladder. Now, he was the King of Ferelden and could do as he pleased.

He was less than pleased with the Apostate's plan, but so far it was working and the two mages were taking turns to watch over the boy. Isolde hovered close by but never physically entering the room. The Arlessa leant against the doorframe watching her son. He approached quietly, but as he had never been particularly stealthy, the grieving Arlessa heard him and turned to look at him.

'I wanted to protect him from the Circle,' she said quietly as Alistair came to stand beside the woman who had bullied his protesting ten-year-old self into the Chantry. 'He's the only child I will ever have and I've killed him, haven't I?'

At this point, Alistair didn't know. He and Daylen had decided that if the demon did appear again before his return, then Alistair would have to kill the child. He had only told Teagan of this, choosing not to burden anyone else with it. 'If the Circle can help, they will,' said Alistair, hoping that they could assist despite the destruction that had touched them so recently. 'Send for me if anything changes, Your Grace,' he said, 'I'm going to try and get some rest.'

'When this is over, I intend to pay tribute to you all,' she said, 'I know Her Majesty arrived in the village before you did, but from what Teagan tells me of last night it was all of you that saved us from the impending oblivion.'

'It is Elissa who remained in charge of the defence,' said Alistair. 'It is to her you owe your thanks.'

Isolde nodded her head. 'Regardless, I believe you should all be acknowledged,' she said. 'You may think me cold and uncaring, the Maker knows I have done nothing to make you think otherwise, but I do care and I could never offer you enough even for trying to save Connor. You are a King and Templar, and know this evil. You could have just handed down the judgement to kill him and it would have been done.'

Alistair frowned. 'If you think that would ever be my first consideration, or that I would try to punish you in such a way, Isolde…' He trailed off feeling sick at the implication.

'I am sorry, I have been too quick to judge you,' she said. 'I have made terrible mistakes in my life. Such vanity has only wrecked the lives of two children.' She sighed and looked at her son. 'But I keep you when you must rest, I apologise.'

If he had any desire for sleep, it vanished with that conversation. Hands in his pockets, Alistair headed back to his rooms with that implication stuck in his head. The truth was that Isolde did not know him, so why would she have any reason to believe that he would do something that was not expected. Alistair ran his hand through his hair; this whole King business had led him to making one unpleasant decision after another, so being able to try save someone was heartening.

Quietly he entered the Royal guest rooms. He'd be damned if he wasn't going to at least lie down and try for some rest. Counting back, it had been nearly two days since he had woken for the last leg to Redcliffe. He crept into the bedroom noting that there was just enough room on the bed for him in slip in beside Elissa with the giant mutt on the bed. With the other option being a hard looking chair in the corner, any amount of bed was preferable. After pulling on his sleeping clothes, Alistair carefully climbed into the bed beside her. It was nice to be in a bed again; camping on a thin bedroll had been uncomfortable. But what he had really missed was that moment he slid his fingers over Elissa's slender waist before taking her in his arms. Elissa turned in his arms and she cuddled into him. He had missed her warmth beside him and the sound of her soft breathing as she slept. Despite the edginess he felt, the warm comfort of the bed had him drifting off.

- … -

It was before dawn when Elissa awoke. She vaguely remembered going to sleep but not how she had ended up in bed. The mostly likely answer for that was sleeping beside her, arm wrapped around her holding her close. Carefully she turned in his arms to study his sleeping form. It was unusual for her to see him sleep; his Chantry upbringing at being up with the first bell was so engrained in him that she doubted he would ever grow out of it. Elissa pressed a kiss to his forehead before she attempted to extract herself from his hold without waking him.

As much as she wanted Alistair alive, she knew this was a mixed blessing. Loghain had the power in Denerim and he would not be without his supporters, ousting him would be difficult. Alistair would have supporters as well, he was a Theirin and Ferelden cared about their Royal line. But pitting the two sides against each other would lead to civil war, if it had not already. Loghain was not without his enemies; passed over families from the Occupation that would have been better suited to running the Terynir that Loghain had been gifted. Elissa shook her head as she got to her feet.

She needed a wash; although she had managed to bath after Daylen had left she still felt deeply unclean. Dealing in death didn't suit her. She had not been built for actually killing men. It was well known she had a talent for hunting but wild beasts for the table were different; it was part of the circle of life. But in this new harsh world she had woken up in, it was a matter of fighting for survival in any way possible.

Elissa slipped from her rooms in the clothes that Leliana had found. She was much taller than the Arlessa so the clothes she had been found belonged to the clearly well-dressed Lady's Maid. Elissa held it up with a critical look; she certainly couldn't imagine Kallian in such an outfit and wondered at what persuasion would be required to make it so. Elissa could barely see herself in it, it was too fussy for her simple Ferelden tastes. The most elaborate gown she had own had been her wedding gown and that had been boxed and placed in storage. Still, she could not walk around in the oversized shirt that she had slept in. The rough weave indicated that it belonged to her husband; yet another Chantry habit he was unlikely to grow out of, but then he did not really seem the sort for Orlesian silk.

The thought made her look back at the man in her bed. He had slipped into life in Highever as if he was always meant to be there. He had been a little distant at first, but he had a lot to learn. Nonetheless, he had always been with her when night fell, holding her close and loving her like she was the most precious thing in his world. It would never be like that again; they would never be safely cocooned away in Highever nor would they ever be free of the duty placed before them. With a sad smile she turned her attention back to the dress hoping that her own clothes would be ready soon.

An hour later, slightly cleaner and fed, Elissa made her way back to her chambers to check on Alistair. There was much they both needed to speak of and she was of a mind to do it sooner rather than later. However, as she walked the halls back to the Royal Guest rooms, she found herself walking towards family quarters to check on the situation with Connor. When she had entered the great hall yesterday and seen Connor she had nearly been sick. He was a young boy, a few years older than Oren and the thought that one of them would have to _kill_ him had wrenched at her gut. She knew the threat remained, despite the help of the two Apostates and Alistair, Connor could still turn on them and he would have to be killed. She shuddered; death wasn't in her veins, counting up her victims had made her feel dirty. She could feel blood on her hands, a taint that would never truly wear off.

It was the witch, Morrigan, who presided over the boy pursuing a book with a look of distaste. It didn't look like any book from the Arl's library but who knew what secrets could be found in a nobleman's library, the Maker knew that Highever Castle hide more than its fair share.

'Is it safe for the boy to be sleeping?' Elissa asked, stepping into the room. Morrigan looked up from her book. 'I read that mages were closest to the Fade in their sleeping hours. If he is asleep then isn't he more susceptible to the demon?'

A look crossed Morrigan's face. 'Tis not sleep, it is a trance,' she said. 'He is neither asleep nor awake.'

'I bet his mother loves that,' muttered Elissa, moving closer to look at the boy. 'Do you think the trance will hold him until Daylen returns?'

'It might, if that fool Circle Mage does not do anything wrong,' she murmured darkly.

Elissa smiled a little. 'Not a fan of the Circle, I take it?'

'And why would I be when they leash mages,' Morrigan replied. 'I suppose you disagree.'

'It is hard to disagree when I owe my life to an apostate,' answered Elissa sitting down. She sighed heavily. 'What will happen to him once the demon is gone, will he be back to normal?'

'Tis hard to say,' replied Morrigan, 'the demon within him is strong and even facing the demon in the Fade might kill him if it is left too long.' The witch looked up. 'You should not remain; I fear your dear Templar will think I seek to turn you against him from the look on his face.'

Elissa looked up to see her husband looking warily at the two women. She looked back at Morrigan. 'Thank you for your help,' she said before getting up. 'Alistair?' she said softly as she walked passed him.

They walked side by side but not touching and once out of earshot of Morrigan, so they hoped. 'You should not be alone with them,' he said quietly coming to a standstill and taking her hand. 'They are both more dangerous that you can imagine, Liss.'

'Then at least I have my Templar in shining armour to save me,' she remarked, earning herself one of those looks.

Alistair raised his eyebrows before he shook his head and chuckled softly. 'And if I am not around?'

'When it comes to my life, you seem to have a habit of popping up right in the nick of time,' she replied as he pulled her into his arms, his hands settling on her waist.

'I wasn't there when you needed me the most,' he said quietly. 'I should have been there.'

Elissa shook her head and cupped his unshaven jaw. She was still in awe of him being here; the dream like quality of it all was gone now she could hold on to him, look over his face, touch his skin, and hear his voice in that low timbre that made her melt. Her other hand curled into his shirt, rough woven just like the one she had woken in, and she bent her head to his chest as the tears welled into her eyes. 'Wasn't your fault,' she whispered, 'none of us could have known.'

Alistair slid his hand into her hair and held her close. 'Tell me,' he said, 'tell me what happened.'

She nodded her head against his chest. 'Not here though, in our rooms.'

_**3rd Harvestmere, 9:30. Highever, Ferelden.**_

Elissa watched the troops from Amaranthine approaching the castle. Once they arrived, within the next two hours or so, they would have lodgings with the men of Highever before they marched south. A cold shiver ran down her spine; Elissa had been against this since it had been announced at the King's Court in Denerim three weeks ago. She had tried to make her voice heard on the matter but the King's order was to be followed to the letter. Elissa would not have minded except that the King's order was a ridiculous one. Ordering all of the army south was a distinctly bad idea in Elissa's mind because if this was a really a Blight then throwing everything they had at the darkspawn in one go would only leave the country defenceless.

'I take it you are still questioning the wisdom of our King,' said her father.

Bryce Cousland stood beside his daughter with his hands clasped behind back. Elissa looked at him before watching the men again. 'Perhaps I wouldn't be so questioning if you did not agree with me.'

'Regardless of whether I agree or not, it is Cailan's orders I follow not yours or Alistair's,' replied Bryce. 'Although Alistair would not be so foolish as to order everyone south.'

Elissa smiled at her father's remarks. 'Then don't send so many,' she protested once again. She knew the Teryn of Highever would never disobey the King's orders but she would never know if she didn't try.

Bryce put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for an embrace. 'You will be fine, my dear girl, if that is what you are worried about.'

'I'm more worried about what will happen when the King gets the whole army killed,' she replied. 'Alistair's letters are not as encouraging as our King's.'

'I would not expect them to be, he is far more level headed that Cailan ever will be,' remarked Bryce solemnly.

Elissa raised her eyebrows but didn't remark further. It did not take much to be more level headed than Ferelden's glory hungry King who was seeking every moment to catapult himself above his father. It was close to suicidal and no one should have been so excited to go to war. While everyone else approached it with sobriety, Cailan was bounding around like a child with a new toy. In her opinion, the only reasonable decision had been was to make Alistair King-in-Waiting so that he could take the reins should Cailan die. He surely would at his current rate.

'You will leave in the morning?' she asked.

'With the sunrise,' Bryce replied. 'Best we set off as earlier as we can with so little light left.' Bryce looked at his daughter and heir to the Terynir over her brother. 'You will take care of your mother.'

'You know as well as I, Papa, that Mama can take care of herself,' Elissa replied. 'Better than you, no doubt, as she also knows how to cook.'

The Teryn of Highever laughed at his daughter and squeezed her close again. 'I would not be entirely useless you know,' he remarked. 'Come on, we have a dinner to attend least your mother have both our heads.'

-…-

Elissa had retired early; she planned to ride out to the border with her father in the morning and Kallian had arranged her gear for the journey. While no longer Elissa's handmaiden, the young elf had nothing else to do around Highever as everyone had heard what she had done in Denerim. It was impossible not to have heard after the blazing row Elissa and Bryce had on the matter. It had involved most of the family and while the Teryn of Highever acknowledge Kallian as the wronged party initially, he was naturally uneasy about allowing a fugitive who freely admitted to the murder of twelve men remain in his house. However, Elissa maintained that she had offered the elven-girl her protection and as Elissa had a higher rank over her father she prevailed and Kallian remained. It was a difficult adjustment for Kallian who had lived in Highever with Elissa since she had been employed as her handmaiden just before Elissa's marriage. Those who once called Kallian friend now scurried from her in fear she would turn a blade on them.

Still Kallian looked odd, more uncomfortable than usual when she checked in with Elissa.

'The men from Amaranthine look… shifty,' Kallian remarked when Elissa asked her what was wrong.

Elissa smiled tightly. 'They are just nervous, Kallian. They are going to war.'

'Of course,' said Kallian. 'I presume I am not riding with you in the morning.'

The Princess shook her head. 'While father allows you to remain, I doubt we will help matters by forcing you into his presence.'

Kallian bobbed a curtsey. 'Will that be all, Your Highness?'

'Until morning, yes,' replied Elissa as Cassius barged his way into her chambers.

-…-

Cassius was not a hound prone to barking where unnecessary which is why Elissa woke more alert than if Cassius had been the sort of dumb mutt to howl at the moon. Voices and banging were evident but it was garbled and indistinct.

'Hush,' she said, climbing down from her bed and grabbing Cassius by the collar. 'I can't hear with you barking like that.'

Across the hall, as near as she could make out, she heard the door smashed opened and a cry, Oriana, followed by a childish scream. Elissa froze, her blood going cold starting at her chest and spreading with each beat of her heart. She listened, this time to deep voices. 'That's the Teryna's room there and that one there is her daughter.'

Elissa looked around the room, panic rising? Had Kallian brought in her bow, or even her sword? In the corner, she spied Alistair's chest and she made for it as the door banged opened. Dressed in the livery of the Howe Estate, the solider glowered at her. For a brief moment their eyes met, and Elissa saw with terrible clarity that there was nothing but death for her in that gaze. Elissa pushed open the trunk as Cassius pouched on the attacker before he could get a shot off, but he was not alone. She desperately pushed aside the remaining contents of the trunk before pulling out a dagger just in time to dodge a mace heading her way.

She spun and brought her hand up, plunging the dagger into the man's ribs knocking him away as he clutched his side. Not wasting a moment, as these men were going to kill her, Elissa snatched up the mace and whispered a prayer to the Maker to forgive her for killing this man. She swung the mace and it came down on the nameless killer's skull. The deed done and blood splattered across her nightdress, Elissa staggered back into her armoire. Her breathing was quick and shallow as another person came to the door; armoured as the men before but this time it was not a man intent on murder but her mother.

Eleanor Cousland looked at the mess Cassius was making, then to her daughter and bloodied mess before her. 'Oh, my dear girl,' she cried running to hold her precious daughter. 'It's okay, darling.' She pulled her daughter, her little girl, into her arms as she sobbed. 'Shhh, my darling,' she soothed. 'We need to get you dressed, there are more of them.'

The Teryna was shaking as she turned her daughter in the direction of her clothes closet. 'Get dressed, and get your weapons.'

Elissa leant forward and a shaky hand withdrew the dagger embedded in the side of her attacker. She chose her hunting gear; the drakeskin lined clothes were like a second skin to her. Her shaky hands picked up her bow, which she realised had been left in its usual place but of course, in her desperation her eyes had skipped over it. After pulling her quiver over her head, Elissa slid Alistair's dagger into her boot for back up.

'We should check on Oriana and Oren,' said Eleanor, but Elissa knew it to be hopeless.

What would be the point? She had heard the screams from her own rooms. Men that intent to kill always killed. But her mother was already marching to the rooms opposite. Elissa half jogged to catch her up and grabbed Eleanor's wrist as she reached out for the door handle. 'You shouldn't, Mama,' Elissa whispered looking at the door.

But Eleanor pulled her hand free and opened the door. Elissa looked away before truly taking in the awful sight. The strangled cry of her mother would live with her forever; the cry of that little boy's name would wake her for years to come. Trying not to look, Elissa grabbed her mother.

'Please, Mama, there is nothing we can do for them,' she said, bar make every man responsible pay, she added mentally. 'Come, please don't look.'

'Why not, I want to remember as I strike each one down,' muttered Eleanor. But she went with her daughter. 'We must check on Leandra and find Bryce, oh Maker, we must find your father, Elissa.'

Elissa nodded but she did not hold out much hope. If these men could slay a child, then a sleeping woman would be no trouble. While she knew her father could defend himself if armed, he had stayed up for drinks with Rendon Howe; she had bid them both good night from the library where her father didn't make a point of arming himself. She wanted to be sick. 'He stayed up with the Arl.'

Eleanor sobbed. 'Maker,' she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. 'Come on, we will make them all pay.'

-…-

The blade sliced through her drakeskin bodice, chemise, flesh and muscle alike. The force of the blow sent Elissa spinning and she collapsed into Kallians arms as one of Eleanor's arrows pierced the armour and heart of the knight that had attacked her. Elissa's vision blurred as the pain spiralled from her wound into the rest of her body. She cried out, her hand going to her stomach.

'My Lady,' yelled Kallian as she caught the Princess, stopping her from hitting floor. 'We're here, we're at the kitchens.'

Elissa tried to focus on the door, but couldn't, the pain was too much and the blackness at the edge of her vision was clouding in too fast.

'Your Ladyship, please,' pleaded the elf, looking at the Teryna, 'help me.'

A second set of arms came around her as well as pressure was applied to her wound. Eleanor tipped Elissa's head back dripping some potion into her mouth; one of Fae's no doubt. The two women half carried, half dragged Elissa into the kitchen where she staggered against a table. She looked at them both, but Elissa knew enough to know she was in trouble; for the first time that night her hands were covered in more of her own blood than anyone else's.

'We'll get you out of here,' said Eleanor as they went through the door to the pantry that hid the secret tunnel.

What they found there made Eleanor forget about her daughter completely, letting Elissa go to slump over the elf, who was tiny in comparison to the tall Princess.

'Bryce,' cried Eleanor.

Elissa wasn't sure how much more of this she could take, let alone her mother. Of course, Elissa was close to the end anyway, so she wouldn't have to take much more.

'Maker not you too,' whispered Eleanor. 'We need to get you out of here, we can get to Fae.'

Bryce gave his wife a pained looked. 'I'll not survive the standing, I fear' he whispered, then he saw his daughter.

Elissa stood glassy eyed and slumped over Kallian, but in spite of her obvious pain and blood loss, she took it all in with terrible clarity. 'Get Elissa to Fae, she is more important now.'

'No,' muttered Elissa, shaking her head. 'I am not.'

'You are, my dear girl, the last chance our line has of surviving now,' he said to her.

'If Kallian can get me out, mother can get you out,' protested Elissa weakly. Her life was draining from her body as surely as her father's was from his.

Bryce shook his head. 'No,' he said, his right hand going to his left and pulling off his signet ring. Elissa reached out and took it. 'You're Teryna now, and you must make Howe pay for this. Inform the King and Prince and don't rest until they hang. Eleanor, see that she does.'

'No,' replied Eleanor, 'my place is here beside you. To the Maker's side and beyond.'

'Kallian, I charge you with the protection of my daughter,' said Bryce weakly; the last of his strength was leaving, it was evident in his voice. 'Get her to His Highness safely and you will be released of all duty to her.'

Kallian nodded. 'Yes, Your Grace,' she replied, adjusting her grip on Elissa. 'Come.'

'No, I'll not leave Mama,' protested Elissa feebly.

'You must,' replied Eleanor. 'You understand my girl, when your place is beside the man you love. I will kill every bastard that comes in here to give you time. You must go,' she implored as the sound of the gate breaking cracked through the night.

Kallian pulled Elissa away; she was too weak to protest, but as she looked back one last time she saw her mother drop to her knees and cup Bryce's cheeks and kiss him before whispering words of comfort to him. Tears tracked down the younger girl's cheeks as she entered the dark tunnel.

_**28th Harvestmere, 9:30. Redcliffe, Ferelden. **_

A goblet of warm liquid was pushed into Elissa's hands. Her fingers shook as she took it and lifted the goblet to her lips. 'Thank you,' she whispered glancing up, her green eyes hollow.

Alistair smiled softly. In all fairness, there wasn't much to say on the matter. It was all pretty clear-cut. He stood up, crossed to the roaring fire, and stared into the flames. 'I'll kill him, Elissa,' he said after a while, looking back at her.

Elissa looked up. 'Can I not claim that prize?'

'I will not lose you to vengeance,' he said.

'I do not need your protection, Alistair,' she said standing to her full, impressive height. 'I must see Howe pay and I shall be the one to do that.'

He'd never had family before he met Elissa Cousland. Bryce and Eleanor Cousland had welcomed him into their family with open arms, treating him like one of their own as if he had always been part of the family. He had built up a camaraderie with Fergus and the two men had begun teach Oren a little sword craft behind Oriana's back when she declared he was a bit too young for it. Bryce had patiently started showing him the ropes of running the Terynir with fatherly compassion and Eleanor fussed over him as if he were still a boy, claiming he needed feeding up and complaining about the state of his socks when she saw them. All the while Elissa was at his side, weaving in and out when her duties called, but since the day he became His Highness Prince Alistair Theirin she had been there, unwavering, for him. He did not care if Elissa wanted his protection or not, he would not lose her in that way.

Alistair walked over to her. He cupped her cheeks with his hands, his fingers sliding over her smooth skin. 'No, my love, you will not. I don't care if you want my protection or not, I will not lose you, not again.' Before she could protest he brought his lips to her, kissing her so that she could not protest.

Elissa would never be the carefree woman he had seen unleashed when away from the confines of Denerim again but death and revenge were not in her veins. It wasn't really in his either, but the Maker had decided that he was fit to be King in a time of war. It was up to him to protect himself, his Queen, and those who supported him, whether by words or blood.

He pulled back to look at her, eyes shut and lips full from his assault. It was possibly the worse time to want her, but he wanted to show her his love for her, push away the darkness that was tainting her worse than any darkspawn taint could. He dipped his head to hers and she willingly accepted him; her arms sliding up his arms to curl around his neck. Hers was a desperate response; a cry for help. Gentleman that he was, he knew he shouldn't push her in these circumstances, but she clung to him as if she feared he would be taken from her again. Alistair couldn't honestly say he didn't fear the same of her; it was just his luck he had found her while a demon held dominion over the castle. But the Elissa he had dreamt of in the Fade hadn't been like this. Despite the distortions, she had been whole and happy.

Alistair was never going to let her out of his sight again, he decided as they pushed up against the door of bedroom. He hadn't even realised they were moving, lost as he was in the conflict between loving her and letting her cool her head. But it was lost as she brought her leg up around his hip making their bodies fit together. He groaned at the contact and softened his kisses, teasing her, slowing her down.

'Liss,' he said against her lips.

'Please, don't stop,' she said, pulling him back to her.

Who was he to refuse her; he would make her every desire come true. His hands slid to the laces of the bodice of the dress she wore. Elissa had always been a willing recipient to his fumbling attempts in the past, but right now, he had a clearer picture, as it were, of how to do this and his fingers didn't shake as he unlaced the bodice of her dress. He didn't feel a flush of embarrassed heat as she pulled his top free and ran her hands over his chest, her fingers lingering over his muscles charting the new structure after the past month of fighting and travelling. She was different to; her body had always been willowy with long beautiful limbs but they were lither now. Her once soft legs were toned; firm from the muscle that had built after her ordeals. His fingers grazed along the underneath of her thigh before catching her knee, bringing her leg up higher toward his waist. Elissa responded to the new position by kissing him hard, using her teeth to tug on his lower lip.

Elissa found the door handle and pushed down opening the door. They nearly tumbled through but they caught their balance and the spell was suddenly broken. The couple looked at each other uncertainly, but the fire from what they had started still smouldered.

'Liss?' he asked, taking her in his arms again.

All of a sudden, she looked so vulnerable, her green eyes wide as she looked at him reaching out. 'You're really here?' she questioned, raising a hand to cup his cheek. 'This isn't something crazy is it? I'm not possessed by that Demon?'

He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. 'You aren't possessed, if you were we'd be somewhere perfect, Highever, Denerim, not in a castle that is almost a smouldering ruin. It wouldn't want you with your broken spirit.'

Alistair leant forward and pressed a kiss to a soft spot behind her ear. Elissa's head rolled back as he trailed down her neck, pushing the dress off her shoulder. He'd always been so afraid to touch her, she was so soft and untouched when they had first been together. But that had been before he had lost her, before he had seen the marks that would scar her body and mind for the rest of her life.

'You'd be perfect, you wouldn't be covered in scars or heartbroken,' he continued.

'Are you talking about me or you?' she asked.

'Both of us,' he replied acknowledging the pain he had been carrying with him since waking after the battle at Ostagar.

Elissa pulled the dress down the rest of the way letting it pool at her feet before she held her hand out to him. He took it and she led them to the bed. Her eyes never left his as she backed towards it. She seemed to be moving in slow motion as she slid onto the bed pushing the covers aside as she went.

There was a moment of hesitation as he looked at her beckoning him with desire flaring in her eyes. However, it didn't last as he pulled the laces of his trousers free. Alistair joined her on the bed, pinning her beneath him and moving slowly over her, kissing and touching her gently. He didn't want to make this a desperate act, they were blessed with this second chance of being together and he would make her remember that first and foremost, he loved her. Alistair moved his attention from her neck down to the gentle slopes of her breasts that were still bound. Elissa arched her back allowing him access to remove the binding cloth. He threw it aside and bent his head to her, gently kissing and teasing one taut nipple and then the other with his lips and teeth.

Elissa lay back, sighing softly as she slid one of her hands into his hair. Her touch and sighs encouraged him on moving further down her. He kissed her flushed skin, his teeth grazing over her soft flesh making her mewl softly with each touch. His hands slid over her soft curves, moving over her waist to her breasts and back down again. She pushed down on his shoulders, urging him lower. His lips moved to the terrible scar that was forming across her stomach and gently kissed its length. With each whispering touch he made a vow that he would see the makers of Elissa's torment pay; either by the sword or by the hangman's rope.

His kisses moved lower until he could hook his fingers under the waistband of her small clothes and pulled them down. Tossing her smallclothes aside, he looked up at his naked, willing wife, drinking in the sight of her beauty; she had never looked so gorgeous. He moved so that he was covering her body with his weight braced against once arm while his other hand slid over her sex, pressing against the sensitive nub that made her cry out softly. Despite that, they did not break eye contact and they drunk each other in. After this, he could never have enough of her. It was not like all the other times when their lovemaking had been sweet and shy. When Elissa cried out his name, straining against his touch, he withdrew his hand and covered her completely.

He entered her slowly; feeling every inch of her against him. Elissa sighed in contentment as if she had just been completed and he stilled his forehead on shoulder. Beneath him, Elissa shifted just a little changing the angle. He groaned as he slid in just a little deeper at the same time she whispered in his ear.

'I love you.'

Alistair looked up and saw her tender gaze. He smiled before kissing her again. 'And I you, my love,' he replied between each touch of their had loved her from the moment he had turned to see her cradling her wrist in the dirt. He remembered drawing her just a little too close when he had help her back to her feet, right there in the middle of Denerim's Palace the day before he became a Prince.

He set a slow rhythm, sliding in and out of her so he could feel every inch of her against him, each thrust sending him closer to blissful oblivion. Elissa matched his rhythm, their bodies slid together as he kissed every part of her that he could reach. Her hands grasped at the thick muscles in his back and neck straining to get closer to him and he obliged her by sliding one hand down her body and leg to pull her knee up over his hip. He slid deeper within her; Elissa threw her head back crying out, grasping at his shoulders trying to hold on as she reaching her peak. He pushed into her again, fighting for control, fighting to bring Elissa to pleasure first. But her delightfully hot body was clenching against him, egging his body to find its release within her.

'Come on love,' she whispered, tightening her legs around him.

He moved faster and Elissa's voice broke as she reached her climax; her body shuddering beneath his. She pulled him deeper and he found his own release. The intensity of it had him grabbing the pillow and crying out her name as he spilled his seed, flooding her womb with the potential to create new life. They remained together, still intimately joined with their foreheads resting together, their eyes flickering over one another as they both came back from the blissful oblivion. Elissa lifted her head and pressed a kiss to his lips.

'Love you,' she whispered again as he carefully rolled taking her with him so that she rested in his embrace.

_**Kinloch Hold, Ferelden.**_

Kallian led the way down to the small dock, having dismounted and taken the reins. It had been a short, easy ride and had she not been with Daylen, she probably would have let loose and ridden as fast as the wind. She had discovered she enjoyed it when she had gone riding with Elissa and Alistair in Highever. Elissa always like to let loose on her mount and rode like a wild child while her husband watched her with great affection as he hung back. Kallian had learnt a little of letting loose that way with the wind in her hair.

But she had a duty to protect Ferelden's only Grey Warden and she would let no one down.

'Do you need help dismounting?' she asked they reached the small dock that he had only left behind a few days ago.

Daylen demurred and dismounted. He headed straight for the docks; from what Kallian could make out the Templar that had guarded only boat over had been replaced with the actual ferryman. From Daylen's story, she had surmised that the Templar in question would never be tempted to guard the jetty again after receiving an unusual put down from the King of Ferelden.

'Well, my,' called the ferryman, 'back so soon Daylen.'

Daylen lead the way on the pontoon, holding out his hand to the old man who had escorted him and Duncan across the lake when he had left the infernal tower behind. He'd been back far too many times already.

'Problems in Redcliffe,' he said, 'need a few reinforcements. We must see the First Enchanter urgently.'

Kallian looked up at the Tower. She had never seen it before; it rose into the sky taller than anything for miles. 'Why are the windows so high up?' she asked as they stepped into the boat.

Daylen sighed as he settled into the boat. 'It is a prison, Kallian, no one gets in or out of that place without the Templar's permission,' he explained. 'You are watched by silent statues that can debilitate you in seconds and without warning. Still, one guy I know has jumped it five or six times now,' said Daylen, 'he was put in solitary confinement. Wonder if he survived Uldred's uprising.' He shook his head. It did not bear thinking about.

'That sounds terrible,' replied Kallian as she looked back up again. 'I have never understood much about mages or Templars, and His Majesty has never spoken of his time in the Chantry.'

'That is because you are a maid servant, no doubt he has spoken of it to his wife,' said Daylen darkly. 'Still, the knowledge that he was one of them scares me a little; he could render me powerless in seconds. I do not think Alistair realises how powerful he is.'

Kallian frowned. 'You should not worry,' she replied, 'I might have just been a maid servant, but I know he is a good man and would never bring harm to anyone without good cause.'

'Even those who side with Loghain and Howe?'

'I believe he would only use force if necessary,' said Kallian, 'unless they were directly involved with Cailan's betrayal or the sacking of Highever.'

Daylen nodded his head thoughtfully as the boat continued its slow journey across the still water.

-…-

Knight-Commander Greagoir looked dubiously at Daylen. 'We will not change our minds,' he said as Daylen was ushered into the Tower after the long journey over the lake.

'I am not here to see you, Commander,' he said. 'I come with an urgent request for Irving. Something of a situation has arisen involving Jowan.'

Greagoir narrowed his eyes on Daylen. 'Last I heard Jowan was on his way to Denerim. Are you to tell me otherwise?'

Daylen nodded. 'Sadly so,' he said. 'Teryn Loghain intervened and relieved the Templars of their burden. Suffice to say rather a lot of damage has been done. Jowan tells us one thing, but neither myself nor my companions believe a word he says.'

'We decided speaking with the First Enchanter would be the best course,' said Kallian.

Greagoir looked at the elf. 'And you are?'

'Kallian Tabris, Ser, Maid Servant to Queen Elissa Theirin,' she said bowing to the Commander. 'I have been tasked with accompanying Daylen here by My Lady. Suffice to say that she is eager to see this matter resolved. A Blood Mage is a problem for all of us.'

Greagoir looked between the Mage and the Elf. 'Very well, if you would like to follow me.'

With the Knight-Commander ahead of them Daylen leant over to Kallian. 'Nicely said,' he commended. 'Quick thinking as well. He doesn't like me.'

'Really?' questioned Kallian. 'Because you are such an agreeable person the majority of the time.'

A young Templar who had survived the attack by being the right side of the doors led them through the tower to Irving's rooms. Kallian looked around in horror. 'This is awful,' she said. 'How did you manage to fight your way through?'

'Sheer luck,' said Daylen. 'How is the clean up going?'

'Slowly.'

'And how is Carroll?' he asked innocently, but with a terrific smirk on his face.

'Don't think Ser Carroll hasn't told us precisely what you and your friend did to him,' replied the Templar. 'If I had my way, I'd bring the pair of you up on charges for breaching the protective perimeter we put up.'

'Oh, is that what that was?' asked Daylen. 'Because I thought it was a bloke on a jetty sent forth to hinder us.'

'Your glibness does you no credit, Daylen Amell. You forget the good work we do. Carroll was there to protect anyone who might come over the lake,' explained the Templar. 'You would do well to have your friend apologise for his behaviour.'

Daylen laughed. 'That I would like to see, the King of Ferelden apologise to a man who called him names for five minutes and claimed to be the Queen of Antiva. You should go into comedy, you are wasted here.'

'If you will not take my suggestions seriously, then I shall not deign to speak to you further.'

Daylen looked to the ceiling. 'Perhaps there is a Maker after all.'

'Daylen,' greeted Irving, as they entered his study. His voice was still weak for his ordeal but he was sounding better. 'I had not expected to see you so soon.'

Daylen walked forward, his hand outstretched to shake the First Enchanters. 'Nor I you,' replied Daylen, 'but a situation has arisen that I must have counsel upon, least I earn the wrath of Ferelden's future Monarchs.'

'That is not the only reason you do this,' said Kallian.

'No, the other reason is that the King is a Templar,' replied Daylen sardonically.

Kallian sighed. 'You do this because it is the right thing to do. He is just a boy after all.'

He'd have rolled his eyes if he could. This was far from the right thing to do, even if the child survived he would come to the Circle and he would bet his life that the Templars would make him Tranquil. Annoyingly, that thought hadn't occurred to him until he was half way up the tower.

'What is the problem, dear boy?' asked Irving.

Daylen sat down in the seat he knew to be opposite the desk; as he was here he might as well ask. 'There is a boy in Redcliffe, the Arl's son, he is under the thrall of a Desire demon. The demon has destroyed the entire village and his mother was willing to turn to Blood Magic to save him.'

'Blood Magic, why was Blood Magic even brought up?' asked Irving, his voice shrewd.

'Jowan is, in part, responsible for this.'

The scrap of wood against stone indicated that Irving had stood. 'Last I had heard, Jowan had been apprehended by the Templars,' he said, now pacing.

Daylen shifted in his seat. 'It would appear that Teryn Loghain had a hand in his removal from the Templars' custody,' he explained, 'and sent him to the Arl's household. It appears that the young Lord Connor is a mage and the Arlessa turned to Loghain for help. Sadly, Loghain saw another opportunity and tasked Jowan with killing the Arl.'

Irving nodded. 'We received a plea for help from the Arlessa the very day Uldred turned on us,' he said sadly, rummaging through the pile of letters on his desk and pulling a letter free. He glanced at the letter, rereading it quickly before setting it aside again. 'I rather feared there was not much we could now.'

'The Arl still lives; in desperation to save his father, Connor made contact with a Desire demon,' explained Daylen. 'As far as we can tell, the demon is keeping the Arl alive. I come here for your help in expelling the demon without killing the boy, but it may be kinder to end his life.'

Beside him, Kallian started to speak but he held up a hand to her.

'If the Templars knew he was once possessed, surely they would seek to make him Tranquil, without question,' said Daylen.

Irving hummed. 'If they did not know, they would not, but Greagoir is not an unreasonable man, if he were so, he'd still be pursuing the Rite of Annulment.'

'Greagoir might not be Knight-Commander by that point,' Daylen pointed out. Not that he believed Greagoir would be that lenient if he was. The man was hard, although he had shown compassion and he hadn't acted imprudently, even when his own man disputed that the Circle was safe. Stranger things had happened; Alistair was becoming a friend for a start. Not that he was the traditional definition of a Templar.

'We will go to Redcliffe, myself and a few other mages,' Irving decided 'and we'll keep this as quite as possible, under the guise that Jowan has resurfaced and torn the Veil, yes, that should be sufficient reason enough for Greagoir.'

Daylen lifted his eyebrows before laughing. He did not think the old coot had it in him to be so deceptive.

'Now, Daylen, I also have some other news that should cheer you,' he said placing his hand on the shoulder of the Grey Warden. 'Neria has made it through her trials. She woke this morning,'


	10. The Queen of Rogues V

_My thanks again to Darkly Tranquil for the read through on this. It is much appreciated. I think this actually marks the end to where I got to last time before I jumped ship and rewrote. Anything after this will be new, new, new. Wooo Hooo. There is at least one more chapter of QoR, before we start what is Part 3, which I have yet to name. _

_**29th Harvestmere, 9:30. Redcliffe, Ferelden. **_

Any joy Elissa and Alistair had found in being reunited evaporated in the early hours of the following morning when Jowan slammed the door to their rooms open, wild eyed and fearful, panicking that the spell to subdue Connor was not holding. Alistair leapt from the bed stopping only long enough to pick up his sword. Elissa took a bit longer as she had to pull a dressing gown over her nightdress. Like her husband she only stopped at the door long enough to arm herself before she was following at a half run.

In the antechamber to the Arl's bedroom Morrigan poured magic into the enthralled boy. As Alistair entered the room, she looked up. 'It seems you will receive the opportunity to prove you didn't fail at your religious instruction.'

It was not the time or the place for a glib remark as Connor twitched while he fought the demon, but it was unlikely the witch could help herself.

'He must have fallen into sleep,' continued Morrigan, glaring at the Blood Mage. 'I knew you could not be trusted to do this correctly.' The witch turned her gaze back on Alistair. 'He must have the connection to the Fade severed before the demon takes full hold on him.'

Alistair rubbed his forehead looking at the boy. He and Daylen had been clean on what would happen if he did become possessed. He looked back at Elissa, whose green eyes were fixed on his sword. Alistair knew what she was thinking as her eyes flicked over the sword, then then boy and back again. Behind her Wynne and Leliana filed in along with Teagan.

'If the connection is severed now, will we be able to hold him long enough for Daylen to get back?' Alistair asked of Morrigan.

'Perhaps if he is kept away from the boy,' replied Morrigan glowering at Jowan.

The blood mage looked like a kicked puppy as he defended himself. 'There was always a possibility that he would fall into slumber,' said Jowan. 'The Witch knows this.'

'Yet it was on your watch that happened,' bit back Morrigan.

'Enough,' commanded Elissa from behind Alistair coming to stand beside him. 'Is it possible for Alistair to save him?'

'For now, but I cannot guarantee for how long. The Demon is strong. Stronger than the Sloth demon within the Mage's prison,' said Morrigan. 'It will take him if he falls into slumber again.'

Elissa looked at her husband, a mask in place to hide the churning emotions of the moment. They were all feeling it; no one wanted to see the death of a child but it was looking more and more likely if Daylen did not return quickly. Alistair was looking at the boy and then to Teagan.

'The decision is yours, Alistair,' said the Bann quietly. 'Only you know whether you can hold the demon at bay.'

Alistair frowned running a hand through his hair and tugging at the ends in frustration. He looked at Elissa who looked just as lost as he did. She caught him looking at her and she shrugged. 'I agree with Teagan,' she said. 'It is your decision.'

He felt a pang of annoyance towards her despite knowing that she could have no idea of the best course. Alistair looked down at the twitching boy. Connor was only a child with his whole life ahead of him, even if that life was now to be spent locked away in a Tower. Who was he kidding? It wasn't life. Would it be a mercy to kill him; not only to be rid of the demon forever but to stop the boy spending his life in captivity? Sighing tiredly, already fed up with the life and death decisions that had been put on his plate Alistair turned to Wynne.

'I'll need some of your Lyrium,' he said to the mage. 'I doubt I have the strength to keep up a vigil without it.'

The spirit healer nodded gravely before she turned and left the room. Alistair was in no doubt that Wynne had seen a fair few Templars succumb to Lyrium poisoning. He would have given all his freedom never to smell the burnt metal tang of the substance again.

He looked at the rest of the group gathered. 'I will need a few minutes to prepare myself,' he announced before following Wynne out the room.

Wynne caught him as he walked back to his rooms. The already greying woman looked tired; it was unlikely that she had yet caught up with her rest after her ordeal in the Tower. He wanted to tell her to rest but there would be no rest with this hanging over all of them. However, despite her tiredness, Wynne smiled warmly that him. 'For what it is worth, I think you are doing the right thing.'

He took the potion with a tight smile for Wynne. 'Am I?'

'I believe so, he is a young boy and not beyond saving yet,' she replied. She had a point, although he couldn't help but worry about a young mage who had already shown himself susceptible to possession. He knew better than any the prejudices of the Chantry and their Templars.

'Thanks, if you will give me a moment, I've not done this for a while, I need to,' he trailed off indicating the direction of his rooms. Wynne smiled again before stepping aside and letting him go to his rooms.

Alistair closed the oak door, plunging the day room that adjoined his and Elissa's bedroom plunging the room into darkness. The fire had long since gone out but he didn't care, he doubted it would warm him in anyway. He placed the small vial on one of the low tables before sitting down. It glowed a ghostly bluish silver in the dark of the room. A selfish part of him wanted to run the boy through just to save himself of the horror of reliving the past he had been so appallingly resigned to mere months earlier. The door opened, as he knew it would, breaking his dark thoughts.

'Alistair?' Elissa asked into the darkness.

She closed the door with a soft click before setting her weapon's down. He smiled in the darkness; they must have looked a right pair stood there, sleep mussed, and dressed in nightclothes both holding swords. Alistair sat up a little as Elissa navigated around the chaise longue before perching on the edge of it.

'I hate this stuff,' he said quietly. 'It has the aftertaste of forced vows.'

She chuckled softly. 'I dread to think what taste our wedding wine has,' she replied.

Alistair smiled as he reached out for her hand. 'That's different.'

'Right,' she said, drawing out the word. 'What's so bad about this stuff? Or would it break that vow the Grand Cleric forced upon you?'

They had never discussed the vow Alistair had made to the Grand Cleric other than for him to tell her he had made it. She had never asked about his life as a Templar after that day. Until now it had been an easy vow to keep, nothing in Highever or Denerim required him to face that part of his life. It could stay in the past where it belonged. But now, it was staring him in the face and Elissa was staring at him.

'It would break that vow,' he confirmed. 'But it feels important that you should know, just in case I need to do this again.' Elissa nodded and he leant forward still holding her hand. She shuffled closer so he could speak quietly as if they feared they would be overheard. 'The Chantry gives their Templars Lyrium. It is _supposed_ to enhance our abilities to disrupt mages.'

'But Lyrium is poison,' Elissa gasped, her hand clenching his tightly. 'Only dwarves are immune to it. What happens to Templars when they take it? What happened to you?'

Alistair nodded returning her grip. 'I was only ever an initiate, thank the Maker, so I wasn't subjected to the ritual poisoning as my superiors were,' he said grimly. 'The Chantry only give you a small amount, but it's addictive and it takes a very short amount of time to be reliant on it. The Chantry then uses it as a prison; if a Templar disobeys their orders the Lyrium stops and then they go mad.'

Elissa ran her free hand through her hair. 'I always wondered what the Lyrium was for,' she said distractedly.

'What do you mean?'

'It's what I said after we discovered Connor was a mage; with enough money and Lyrium even the most devout Templar's will turn a blind eye,' she said, quoting herself. 'I never even imagined they would be addicted to it.'

Alistair chuckled. 'You are going to have to tell me how you it is you know how to bribe Templar's, my dear,' he said and his wife laughed softly. 'But after thirty, maybe forty years, your body can't take the Lyrium anymore and you are retired to Val Royeaux.'

They sat in silence for a moment while Elissa digested this information. 'Do you really need to take this potion?'

'I don't know that I'm strong enough to keep Connor safe without it,' he replied standing up. 'I owe it to the Arl to do my best.'

He glanced at Elissa in the dark knowing that she was likely rolling her eyes at him. She didn't say anything as he up ended the bottle and the acrid potion washed down this throat. As he pulled the vial from his lips, Elissa stood and took the offending container. Somehow those tiny fingers squeezed the bottle so tight that it shattered. She threw the remains in the dead fire before she looked at him again.

'Shall we, my love? Least we hear from the witch of her perceived shortcomings.'

_**The Road to Redcliffe, Ferelden. **_

Daylen rode in silence; after his reunion with Neria had been cut short he hadn't been in a particularly good mood, especially given that the elven mage blamed him for her current condition. But it was not as if they could linger. With Irving and his selected group of mages ready, it was time to return to the child in Redcliffe. Kallian decided against engaging the mage in conversation, just happy to be out of the claustrophobic tower that reeked of death. It had been similar to her foray into Fort Drakon only with less visible prison bars. As they rode, Kallian kept her eyes on the trees either side of her. She and Daylen weren't an intimidating looking group and thus would be perceived to be an easy target.

At first, Kallian wasn't certain she had heard anything and turned to Daylen to see if he had heard anything but he seemed to remain preoccupied. So, she slowed her horse which got Daylen's attention.

'What is it?' he asked.

'Do you hear that?' she asked straining to listen there was nothing now. Perhaps it had been her imagination.

'It's entirely too quiet for my liking,' Daylen remarked, frowning.

Kallian smiled; at least it wasn't just her. Then there it was again, the crack of a dry twig under the foot of something or someone heavy. Daylen's frown furrowed deeper into his forehead while Kallian slowly dismounted, moving as quietly as she could least she draw too much attention to herself and Daylen.

'There is more than one person,' hissed Daylen as he dismounted. As soon as his feet hit the floor he unclipped his staff.

Kallian pulled her daggers free before taking her horse by the rein so she could tie him to the tree instead of letting him spook and run. She climbed the bank quickly using her daggers to dig into the dirt and pulled herself up on to an outcrop. She held out a hand to stop Daylen.

'There's a drop, be careful,' she whispered.

She crouched and dropped down behind one of the bushes. Daylen came in beside her crouching. 'What do you see?'

Kallian watched the men. 'There Bann Loren's men,' she explained in an undertone. 'He's a difficult one, of what I remember from when I was serving Elissa in Highever. I believe he was bitterly disappointed that Elissa didn't marry his son.'

'What are they doing?'

She shifted, peering through the bushes trying to work out where she would be able to get the best view. 'They are apprehending a man,' she said creeping forward. 'None to gently.'

Daylen put his hand on her arm. 'We should leave them.'

'No,' said Kallian. 'I think I recognise him. I recognise the uniform.'

As she made to move, one of Loren's men pulled back his sword and ran the unarmed man through. Kallian paused, adjusting her daggers in her hands but the men lost interest in the dying man and moved off. A clearer view of the man Kallian recognised him. She gasped before taking off down a path that would take her to wear the man was lying.

'What now?' asked Daylen following her.

'I do recognise him; he was one of Cailan's honour guard. If he escaped Ostagar then he might be able to tell you more of what happened,' she explained.

'What more is there to say?' asked Daylen. 'Loghain didn't charge, they all died, apart from him.'

Kallian shook her head. 'No, the King, King Alistair, told Elissa that Cailan knew that Loghain would betray them and he still went,' she said. 'He mentioned it when the battle was over after Bann Teagan joined us.'

'And you think a guard will know why?' asked Daylen a little incredulously.

'Yes,' she said, hoping over a rock. 'The guards and servants know everything. We hear every word spoken, the indiscretions and fights. Everything.'

Daylen rolled his eyes as Kallian reached the man.

'Elric,' she said, her face falling as she took in his bloodied body. 'Have you a healing potion?'

'He's beyond healing,' replied Daylen, but he produced one of the faint green potions anyhow.

Kallian pressed the vial to his lips and poured the contents as best she could into his mouth. Most of it seemed to dribble over his lips but after a moment, Elric coughed and cracked open an eye.

'He's right,' he told Kallian then his other eye opened, both focussed on her. 'Kallian Tabris?'

Kallian nodded. 'I didn't think you knew who I was.'

'It was my job to know who all members of the Royal Households were,' said Elric. 'I was in charge of the King and Prince's security. I didn't do a very good job in the end.'

Kallian took his hand. He was going pale as the life seeped out of the wound in his stomach. 'I'm sure you did a fine job.'

Elric closed his eyes for a moment when he reopened them he looked at Daylen. 'You were Duncan's new recruit.'

Daylen nodded his head. 'Indeed I was,' he confirmed. 'What are you doing here, surely if you were with Cailan's guard then should you not be carrion by now?'

'When I saw the King killed, I knew it was over and I knew what I had to do,' explained Elric. 'I made off as quickly as I could.'

'You deserted?' asked Daylen sharply.

Kallian looked over at the mage. 'They are saying worse about the likes of you,' she snapped. 'You didn't just desert but you killed the King as well. That's what Loghain put about.'

Elric smiled at Kallian. 'Thank you,' he said to her. 'The King tasked me with one last task; to make sure that either Prince Alistair or the Grey Wardens received the key to the arms chest.' Elric looked at Daylen. 'You survived, did the Prince?'

'He did,' confirmed Daylen. 'He remains in Redcliffe for the moment.' He sighed. 'Do you have this key?'

Elric chuckled. 'The Maker has a sense of humour does he not?' he said ironically. 'Had I kept the key, it would no doubt be making its way to Howe or Loghain now. I hid it in camp; I had no reason to believe I wouldn't be able to get back to it.' Elric turned back to Kallian. 'I can draw a map perhaps our new King can retrieve the chest. He knows what's in there and it's important that no one else gets to it first.'

Kallian and Daylen nodded in unison as Elric produced some clothe and ink from a pack that had fallen behind him.

-…-

'We shouldn't leave him here,' said Kallian looking at the pale, dead body of Elric Maraigne.

Daylen frowned. 'We can't very well burn him,' he said. 'If there are any more men in the woods it'll draw attention. We may have to let the wolves have him for the sake of a safe escape.'

Kallian turned looking stricken. 'We can't do that,' she said. 'It is not honourable.'

'We can't always do what is honourable,' he said before sighing. 'If we get attacked and I can't fight back I'll blame you.' He held his hand and staff aloft.

Beneath her, the world began shaking and Kallian started to back away. 'What are you…' she started before trailing off watching the earth around Elric rise and eventually encase him.

Daylen turned to her, a smile playing on his lips but he looked tired. 'Would that suffice?'

'I suppose,' she said slowly before stepping up to him. 'But you could have warned me. I thought the earth was going to gobble me up.'

'No,' he said as he laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Come, we should go. We'll not make it back to Redcliffe today but we must move on and find somewhere else to camp.'

Kallian looked back at the mound that had appeared. It didn't seem right, leaving him there unmarked. She looked around for something she could place there; Kallian assumed he must have family and therefore someone who would want to know what had happened to him. She knew she would not want her family living in a void of not knowing what had happened to her, although her own family would have no idea that she was tagging along with the great and good across Ferelden. Her eyes fell on some rocks beside the small stream that flowed a hundred paces away. So as not to delay them too long, Kallian grabbed a few of these stones and placed them atop the mound. She supposed she should say something to commend his soul to the Maker, but she didn't know the right words for that. Kallian actually wished that Leliana was here; the girl might be batty to the brain about the Maker but at least she would know what to say for Elric.

She turned from the body to see Daylen with a sympathetic look on his face. 'Ready,' he asked her.

'Yes.'

_**Redcliffe, Ferelden.**_

Elissa had retreated to the village as the sun reached its low zenith. Having managed to dump the papers from Genitivi on Leliana, Elissa found herself in need of escape from the haunted castle. Since taking the Lyrium in the early hours of that morning, Alistair had withdrawn from her. He watched Connor with a grimness that she had not thought in him. He was every inch the Templar and that scared her a little bit. Elissa had never seen him even close to being like this, even in the brief moments she had met him as an actual Templar. Thus she decided that she would be more help in assisting with the clean-up in the village. However, she wished she could do something for Alistair and ease the tension he was clearly under, yet there was nothing, he assured her with a tight smile admitting he wished it was all over.

It wasn't just that which played on her mind. When Daylen returned and Connor dealt with, they would leave venturing out on this on this quest to gather the Grey Warden allies while she would be left behind. Alistair had told her much of what had happened during their two months apart. They had at least gotten one day together before all hell let lose again. The thought of him leaving her once again churned in her stomach. It had been bad enough in Denerim, being forced to stand still and watch him ride away, but she was no Anora. She was not destined to watch her King ride away without going with him this time. Elissa could not remain in Redcliffe while Alistair put himself in harm's way.

At the sound of Murdoch yelling aim, Elissa rose her bow with a flaming arrow. Some small rowing boats had been found the previous dead and they were sending off the men who had died fighting. She let her arrow loose and it flew in a graceful arc landing in the furthest away boat that was not aflame.

'Hold,' the town's mayor yelled as something seemed to be coming towards them.

Jumpy after the experience of the last few nights, the men took aim at the ghostly boat on the waters. Even Elissa pulled back an arrow in preparation of the worse. But as the boat cleared the smoke she recognised the man at the forefront of the boat. Ferelden's First Enchanter had stood in the boat and Elissa stepped forward to ask Murdoch to tell the men to stand down but they were not convinced that they were in no danger.

Thanks to Owen's daughter, the story of the mage who had poisoned the Arl and summoned a demon to control them all had made it down into the village. The scant handful of survivors looked on in fear by the time the boat came to a halt. Only Elissa had stepped forward, holding out her hand to assist the First Enchanter to get his feet to drier land. They had never personally met, but it was impossible for each not to know who the other was. He had been at the Landsmeet that had marked the change of her life and then at the meeting when Calian had declared the Darkspawn had risen.

Irving bowed to her once he was on solid ground. 'Your Majesty, it is an honour,' he said to her as three other mages disembarked from the boat.

Elissa nodded amid mutters from the crowd behind her. They had not heard her called by her new formal title and it was a matter of interest to them all that Ferelden's acknowledged Queen had fought for them. The muttering increased while she welcomed Irving as the village realised that during the final battle she had been joined by her husband, the King; a man who had been raised in Redcliffe in the Arl's household. It had not been common knowledge then that he was Maric's bastard when he was growing up so a few were a bit red faced about the fact they would torment the young boy who lived in the stables and was raised by the hounds.

The buzz got a bit louder until a voice rose above it all. 'Maker save King Alistair and Queen Elissa.'

She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face and Irving chuckled under his breath. 'I must apologise,' he said, 'I did not think that would garner such a reaction.'

Elissa shook her head while trying to acknowledge the crowd. She turned to the handful she had tried to save. 'Thank you,' she said, 'but there is still much to do and we cannot delay the First Enchanter.'

The crowd placated a little and moved aside. 'I will show you to the castle, we are in need of great haste, First Enchanter,' she said stepping off the jetty leading the mages. As they left the main square behind, she began speaking to the First Enchanter again. 'The demon took hold again, last night, we were able to neutralise the danger but to the great expense of King Alistair's endurance. I have no way of knowing how much longer he can keep it up for.'

The First Enchanter nodded solemnly as the makeshift guards bowed to Elissa at the doors to the great castle. They were met inside by a clearly agitated, worn looking Alistair who was struggling without rest and fighting the need for more Lyrium. The moment he saw the mages he schooled himself and Elissa joined him, her arm sliding into his. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him squeezing his arm in reassurance. She resisted the urge to kiss him and reluctantly she tore her eyes away as the First Enchanter bowed to them both.

'Your Majesty,' he said, 'Daylen has informed me of the child in enthrallment here and Her Majesty advises me that you have managed to block his connection to the fade. You must be long past weary. In most cases, it would take several Templars to keep such a vigil for as long as you have. But I should not be surprised. You showed in the tower that you were more capable then ten of the most devout men in their ranks.'

Alistair nodded tightly and Elissa wasn't sure if he were slightly insulted or pleased with the fact he could outstrip his former tormentors.

'It has been taxing,' said Alistair, clearly attempting to be diplomatic. 'With that in mind it might be best if we proceed as quickly as possible.'

Irving nodded. 'Under normal circumstances I would wait for Daylen, but it is clear that we cannot delay,' he said thoughtfully. 'Have you any thought as to whom should enter the Fade?'

The monarchs exchanged a looked. Elissa lent forward with her suggestion and Alistair nodded his agreement. 'In Daylen's absence, we believe it should be you.'

'I thought you might say that,' he said slowly. He looked back at his companions. 'We should prepare as soon as possible. Wynne should be on ready for any injuries that might result.' Irving looked back at the King. 'Your Majesty, I trust I can prevail on your good judgement should I become at risk of possession?'

Alistair nodded. 'Let us hope it does not come to that.'

-…-

Alistair woke to find Elissa in a chair beside him painstakingly pushing a needle through the leather of her corset. An unusual sight as she hated sewing, she had a habit of pricking her fingers she used to tell him. Yet as he watched her, his eyes half closed as she worked, he saw no evidence of even coming close to hurting herself with the tiny sharp needle. Perhaps he had hit his head or maybe they were in the Fade to conjure such an unusual image. He cocked his head to look at her. Elissa looked up and smiled at him. Putting her work aside she got up to sit beside him on the bed.

'What happened?' he asked rubbing his head, now noticing the throbbing sensation behind his eyes.

'You collapsed,' she explained, smoothing out the coverlets of the bed, 'when you released the block between Connor and the Fade.'

He groaned and closed his eyes falling back into the pillow. 'How terribly unmanly,' he remarked, 'and unkingly.'

Elissa chuckled softly. 'Yup,' she agreed taking his hand. 'everyone is downstairs now, talking about how girlish you are, with your long hair and fainting.'

'Really helpful, my Lady,' he said opening his eyes again and running his hands thought his admittedly over long hair. 'What about Connor?'

Her smile widened with the good news she was about to give. 'He's okay,' she explained, 'last I heard he was sleeping. The First Enchanter thinks me might be out for a day or two.'

Alistair sat up realising he was down to just his smallclothes so he pulled the sheet to him earning himself an amused look from his wife. After their frankly brazen, by his standards anyway, reunion it wasn't as if she hadn't seen everything he had on offer. But that shy Chantry raised boy was still in there. He lent back against the headboard while Elissa shook her head with a smile of genuine amusement. It was good to see her smile so beautifully.

'Are you okay?' she asked quietly her thumb tracing circles on his knuckles. 'You were shaking and your sleep was not restful.'

He gave her a baleful glare but her face was serious and concerned. 'It the aftereffect of taking the Lyrium,' he told her, 'and exhaustion, but mainly, the Lyrium.'

'I'm sorry,' she whispered as utter horror speared her. It had been playing on her mind since he had told her how the Chantry imprisoned their Templars with the substance. 'You'll never need to take it again, will you?'

'Not if I can help it,' he said. 'I suppose I had best face the music, any idea how long it's been since a King collapsed in front of the entire Circle of Magi?'

Elissa shrugged a delicate shoulder. 'I should let Teagan know you are well, no doubt he is pacing the halls decrying the Theirin ability to get themselves into trouble and leave Ferelden without a King.'

'That's not funny,' he pointed out.

'Yet oddly accurate,' she said standing up. 'You should rest some more, Alistair, while you still have the opportunity, no doubt you will be back on the road again soon. You will need to go with Daylen to call on these treaties.'

He winced at the note in her voice. That and he didn't want to go without her, from the moment he had seen her again he had promised himself that he would not leave her alone, not after what happened in Highever. 'Come with us,' he said suddenly.

'What?' she said spinning around to look at him.

'Come with us,' he repeated, 'to find the dwarves and elves, we could use you.'

'Use me?'

He cursed himself for the use of words. 'Yes,' he said, 'you're far more eloquent than me; I get all my words mixed up. You'll be writing my speeches when we're in Denerim and I have to really impress the nobles.' She smiled softly at him. 'You can fight and hunt. Not to mention you're resourceful and clever, I bet you could keep us all out of trouble with those sharp eyes of yours. Then there are all the other things that are coming up blank that you'll probably decide to hurt me for not saying.'

She gave him a warm, tender smile. 'I would never hurt you, my love.'

'Nor I you,' he said holding out his hand for her. She stepped forward and took it allowing him to pull her into his arms. 'You'll be safer moving. If you stay here who knows if Howe might attack with the castle weak as it is.'

'I suppose if he can't keep up with me, he can't catch me,' she reasoned.

'And if they do, I'll kill every last one of them,' he vowed before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.


	11. The Queen of Rogues VI

_A/N As always, thanks goes to Darkly Tranquil from the beta read through on this. Also a big thanks to everyone who reviews that I can't reply to as you are reviewing as a guest. I'm glad you are enjoying it enough to tell me so. Certainly keeps the plot nugs alive. _

_**30th Harvestmere, 9:30. Redcliffe, Ferelden.**_

Leliana knew she had been conned, so to speak, by the clearly wily Queen of Ferelden into reading through Genitivi's work. Still, she did not mind; when she happened across Elissa and Kallian in the tavern in Lothering discussing the Blight she never imagined she would be discovering whether or not Andraste's Ashes really existed. It was a bit of a coup for her. Besides, it was not as if Elissa was not doing her part in helping the villagers and who was anyone to complain when she spent time rekindling her relationship with her husband. She deserved some happiness after losing her family in Highever.

However, after nearly three days of scouring disjointed ramblings of the Chantry Brother, even Leliana felt her patience tested to the limit. She had found, by way of harassing the Arlessa into explaining her actions that the knights had been sent on their mission on the presumed veracity of a map that had no beginning. The missing information was, apparently on Andraste's Birth Rock situated within the Palace district of Denerim but Genitivi had yet to translate it. The problem was, as Leliana discovered, it was not the first time that Genitivi had claimed such a thing and it came to a dead end.

It appeared that the Maker truly wanted the last secrets of Andraste to remain, well, a secret. Thus, having come to this conclusion she dumped the papers on Arl Eamon's desk with an exasperated sigh for the Queen.

Elissa looked up from the trinket she was examining in her hand, and frowned at the pile of paper. 'Predictably pointless?' she ventured.

'Even I would not send men on such a hopeless quest no matter how much I wanted to find the Urn,' said Leliana. 'There is nothing here, just a map and an endless number of places at which the starting point could be; all of which have proven to be dead-ends despite over twenty years of painstaking research from this brother.'

Elissa stood up, placing the trinket in her pocket before running a hand through her hair. 'It's insanity,' she said, resting her other hand on her hip. She looked at Leliana. 'What of this new evidence on the Birth Rock?'

'If he found anything, he hasn't sent it to the Arl,' said Leliana. 'I imagine the knights were sent to speak to Genitivi.'

'It takes thirty knights to question one man, does it?' asked Elissa eyeing Leliana curiously before throwing her arms in the air. 'Clearly, obviously.' She smiled at Leliana. 'Thank you for doing this, I did mean to help you, but I got waylaid.'

Leliana chuckled. 'No one could blame you for that,' she said, 'there is much to do here, but may I ask what happens next? It is unlikely, is it not, that the King and Warden will remain here.'

'They will need to continue with their mission,' Elissa replied, careful of her words to the Sister she didn't quite trust. Elissa liked her but the older woman was hiding something and in this time of warfare and betrayal it made her more wary than usual. 'Alistair has asked that I go with them but I cannot leave you and Kallian here. You are too fine an archer and Kallian, well, she is under my protection.'

Leliana smiled at Elissa. 'I will be happy to help however I can, no matter how mad you think I am.'

'I don't think you are mad, you just have,' she clicked her fingers trying to think of the right way to say it; 'you have more faith in the Maker than I.' She sighed heavily. 'Come, we have lunch to see to while I think about this.'

-…-

Elissa had remained in the Great Hall with Leliana discussing the Genitivi papers. They were in the middle of discussing the likely motives of Arl Eamon funding the work when the doors banged open making them look up in surprise. A clearly furious Daylen stormed in with a grim looking Ser Perth trailing in his wake. In his arms, the stoic knight carried the limp form of Elissa's maid Kallian. Elissa placed her wine glass down to check on her friend.

'What happened?' she asked, looking at the prone form of her former hand maiden. The Knight placed the nearly unconscious elf on the clear end of the table where she seemed to lay unseeing and drawing silted, shallow breathes. 'Can you find Wynne?' she asked Perth. 'I believe she was collecting her bag before going to check on those recovering in the village.'

Perth nodded to Elissa before heading out towards the castle proper.

Elissa turned her attention to Daylen. 'Well?' she asked as Leliana joined her.

'Ambushed last night before we made camp,' he explained. 'She said she was fine. Just an arrow shot to the arm, but she collapsed this morning.'

Elissa picked up Kallian's wounded arm; obvious because she had tied a makeshift bandage over the wound. With the dagger she pulled from her boot she cut the sleeve off revealing an injury with darkened veins fanning out from where a barbed arrow had pierced her. Elissa cursed under her breath; she had seen this before, granted it had been in a horse but she knew precisely what she was dealing with. 'She's been poisoned by Deathroot.'

Daylen looked utterly unconvinced, so much so, he began laughing at her. 'Deathroot isn't exactly lethal,' he said.

'Not in small doses, no,' Elissa replied, her hands reaching around to untie the laces of the dress she wore. 'But this was a barbed arrow. Some of the barb must be still in the wound prolonging her exposure to the poison.' She looked at Leliana. 'Can you pull these laces out, we need to tie off the wound to stop the poison spreading further.'

Daylen watched as Elissa grabbed Kallian's pack and pulled out healing supplied for the same bag as Leliana pulled the laces free. Elissa took a length of the cord and with her dagger she cut it in half. She peered down at Kallian. 'This is going to hurt,' she told her before tying the cord around Kallian's arm to stem the flow of poison into her body.

It would also stop the wound flooding with blood as they attempted to remove the barb that was leaving Kallian in constant contact with the poison. As Elissa pulled on the cord, she reflected that it probably wasn't the wisest of ideas causing deliberate, if necessary, harm on a woman who could cut through half a garrison's worth of trained soldiers. However, the elf was not holding a dagger, so Elissa figured she was in more danger from deliberately aimed limbs. Kallian screamed, her back arched off the table but she didn't have to duck any attempt to injure her.

'How does the daughter of a Teryn know how to treat poisoned arrow wounds?' asked Daylen once Kallian had calmed. 'Shouldn't you be an expert at needlework?'

Elissa frowned. 'The only thing I can do with a needle is stitch wounds and at a push, mend my clothes,' she said acidly. 'The womanly arts were never my forte, much to my mother's chagrin.' She glanced over at Daylen wishing he could see the annoyed expression she knew curved her lips downward. 'My father knew war would return to Ferelden. This Blight is not a big a shock to some of us as we listened to the likes of your former Commander. Your Grey Wardens have been predicting it for nigh on twenty years.'

'I see,' he said sharply as a door opened and Wynne rushed in with Alistair beside her.

She looked up at Wynne. 'The wound needs draining, and an antidote administered. I have some but I fear she has had prolonged exposure to the Deathroot.'

Wynne smiled warmly at her. 'We may not need it, the magic will purge her system but if it has touched her heart, then the antidote will be needed,' she said as Alistair questioned Daylen on what happened.

Elissa moved to Kallian's over side and grabbed her hand. The elf looked at her a little ruefully. 'Were they bearing heraldry?' asked Elissa sitting beside Kallian in an effort to draw her attention away from the mage.

'Amaranthine,' said Kallian. 'I killed every bastard I could get my hands on.'

Elissa frowned at the her former maidservant. 'He is over stretching his bounds.'

'And getting closer,' remarked Alistair. 'That's it settled. You have to come with us. There is nothing stopping Howe from attacking Redcliffe to get to you.'

'Not to mention, the men recognised Daylen as a Grey Warden,' said Kallian, her voice terse from Wynne's ministrations. 'He's a bit conspicuous; a blind mage isn't the usual sort you see just walking around a Kingdom on the brink of destruction and he's a wanted man.'

Daylen glowered. 'I am wanted on two counts of regicide,' he announced. 'Apparently I personally killed you and King Cailan.'

'Well, then, I must remark that His Majesty is looking in rude health for a dead man,' said Teagan drily as he entered the room. 'Ser Perth alerted me to a commotion in here.' He looked at Kallian. 'What happened?'

'I think what has transpired is currently the least of our concerns,' said Elissa, 'when we consider what may happen next.' She returned her attention to Kallian. 'Did any of the men get away?'

'A couple of them,' said Kallian. 'Hidden in the brushes, Daylen didn't have a chance to take them out.'

Daylen nodded. 'It's was one of them who got Kallian,' he said.

'Then we can be almost certain that Loghain will know of your survival for certain within the week,' said Alistair, 'and may bring his forces down on Redcliffe. We'll need to clear out before that happens.'

'I doubt Loghain will make a direct strike against Redcliffe,' Teagan put in. 'Were he going to, he would have done so in the first place. He cannot claim he is protecting Ferelden from Orlais and attack Redcliffe at the same time. It's too important a strategic defence point to put up that argument.'

'He could use Isolde against Eamon's position,' said Elissa quietly. 'Claim that she had swayed Eamon into allowing the Orlesians access and he had to take Redcliffe to hold against any Orlesian threat.'

'No one would believe it,' countered Teagan, rubbing his chin in worry. 'But if he attacks we will not be able to hold out against him.'

'Then his attention will need to be diverted to the Grey Warden roaming around Ferelden,' said Alistair looking over at Daylen.

Daylen turned on the King. 'You want to turn us into a walking target?' he asked, his voice harsh. 'This is going to be hard enough as it is without Loghain sending lackeys after us.'

'It would have most likely happened anyway, you being alive was not going to stay secret from Loghain and Howe for long,' put in Leliana. 'You are lucky to have gotten so far without his attention.'

Daylen snarled under his breath. 'Fine,' he said. 'Fine, got any other brilliant plans while we're at it?'

'We bring Elissa with us,' said Alistair. 'She's being hunted by Howe, she has to stay ahead of them.'

Daylen opened his mouth once, twice, a third time effecting to the look of a shocked fish. 'What does she know about being on the road day after day after day?'

'What did any of us know?' asked Alistair, challenging the mage. 'The fact that she made it from Highever to here and survived what happened here proves that she can help us not to mention all her other useful skills.' He shot a grin at his wife and held out a hand for her.

She took it as she chided him gently. 'I'm not a trick pony for your amusement,' she said.

'No, but you are deadly with that bow.'

Daylen shook his head. 'I do not like this,' he said. 'I do not want to put her in danger and I do not want you worrying about her when I need you at your best.' He turned to Elissa. 'And with all due respect, while you have fought admirably, it was from need to get to a place where you can survive. I need experience and skill, not someone who has hidden behind her father's tail coat for years.'

The silence was palpable; the only sound came from Elissa walking, the rustle of her loose dress that wasn't quite breaking through the tension of the room. If anyone remarked on it after it was the dignity that Elissa mustered up as she squared herself in front of Daylen.

'I'll admit, I was a daughter who was doted upon by her father, I'll even admit I'm privileged, but I am not some pampered Princess, nor do I intend to be a Queen who will sit back and watch others go to war knowing I can do more,' she said. 'I promised to protect this kingdom and it is my duty to do so and I'll be damned if I let some bad tempered mage stand in my way.'

Elissa threw a dirty look at Daylen before she turned on her heel, hitched up her skirt and magnificently swept from the room.

On the table, wincing from the pain as Wynne worked, Kallian chuckled. 'You are such an ass, Amell.'

Alistair turned his attention to Daylen when the door clicked shut. 'She is coming with us,' he stated firmly.

'Is that a Royal Command, O rightful King of Ferelden?' asked Daylen, drawling nastily at Alistair.

'If that's what it takes, then yes,' Alistair turned his back on Daylen, marching off in the direction of his indignant wife.

'T'would seem we have finally found someone worthy of coming on our quest,' said Morrigan. 'I like her, she does not fear all she does not understand. Tis rarely seen these days.'

Daylen got to his feet. 'Well, I'll be certain to consider her for recruitment under your advisement,' he hissed before rubbing his jaw and stalking out in the opposite direction to Alistair.

-…-

After the commotion in the Great Hall, Alistair found himself sat in the kitchens. As a child it had been one of the few places that he had been allowed to be within the castle. He was surprised to discover that the old cook, a large red face woman by the name of Mrs Parmore, had survived not only the attacks on Redcliffe but ten years of Isolde demanding Orlesian cuisine. She had beamed when she finally recognised boy within the man who stood before her, welcoming him into the kitchen with enthusiasm and not a care for his new status. She plied him with food as she spoke of the last ten years while the other servants who had survived everything cowered a little at the idea of the King sitting in the kitchens listening to the cooks idle gossip while he wolfed down almost everything to set in front of him. She spoke of just about anything that popped up into her head but it beat listening to the buzz that was still invading his skull after taking the Lyrium.

Parmore only stopped her constant stream of chat when Teagan arrived. 'Thought I'd find you down here,' he said to Alistair. 'I'm in need of a word with you.'

He sounded serious and Alistair sighed before heaving himself of his chair. He was pretty sure that his life was now going be a near constant stream of bad news. He thanked Mrs Parmore and made after Teagan taking a sweet bread bun with him.

'Are you well after yesterday?' Teagan asked as they walked down a deserted corridor. 'You had me quite worried.'

'Elissa mentioned as much,' he said. 'But I am fine.'

The youngest Guerrin looked troubled as he closed the door to one of the solar's favoured by the Arlessa. 'For what it is worth, I am grateful that you did whatever it was you did,' he said. 'I won't pretend to understand what happened, but thank you.'

Alistair nodded. While it was not something he wished to experience again, it felt good to have been able to finally see some good come out of his actions rather than another bloodied mess at his feet.

'Although there is another rather delicate matter regarding Kallian that I need to speak to you about,' said Teagan walking over to a cabinet containing a decanter of amber liquid. 'I assume that Her Majesty has yet to discuss this with you?'

Alistair shook his head as he accepted a glass of brandy. Elissa had only mentioned Kallian to explain how the elven girl got her to safety in the woods beyond Highever Castle and to a local Apostate for healing. Teagan rocked back on his heels before taking a sip from his glass.

'It is also very serious. As you may well have known, Kallian was due to marry a few days after you left Denerim.'

The King nodded, he had known that, Elissa had planned to remain in Denerim for the wedding before she headed back to Highever. She wasn't planning to attend, it was being conducted in the Alienage and a noble of Ferelden among them would have been cause for trouble. Once the vows complete, Kallian and her new husband were to journey back to Highever with Elissa's entourage.

'Vaughan Kendells decided that he wanted a bit of sport in the Alienage that day,' said Teagan and Alistair swore under his breath.

He had a sneaking suspicion where this was going to, at least in part. 'Kallian was among those he decided to have sport with?'

'Kendells fell afoul of Kallian's cousin first, as I understand it, then there was a second incident which involved Kendells taking several girls hostage,' explained Teagan. 'One of those girls was Kallian. She killed twenty of the guards that remained at the Estate before escaping with her cousin who Vaughan had…' he broke off, uncomfortable with the word on the tip of his tongue.

But Alistair did not need to be told what Kendells was capable off. He shook his head, rubbing at his forehead. Cailan had disliked the bullying son of Urien Kendells, as did Elissa and just about everyone he knew. 'She's guilty of a lot of crimes,' said Alistair slowly before downing his brandy. 'I take it Elissa stepped in?'

'Elissa broke her out of Fort Drakon under the cover of night,' said Teagan. 'After Anora had passed judgement.'

Alistair felt his eyes go wide and suddenly he felt very sick. 'If Anora had discovered it was by Elissa's hand before Cailan had been killed she could have been strung up as a traitor.'

Teagan nodded his head once. 'Naturally, you do have the authority to stop that from happening now, but Kallian could be an issue.' Alistair looked up at Teagan with a quizzical look. 'She ran riot through the Arl of Denerim's Estate and nearly killed the new Arl. The Bannorn will demand justice.'

'Justice meaning Kallian is executed for defending herself or justice meaning Kendells is executed for his crimes?' asked Alistair, idly swilling the brandy. 'I don't think I can order the woman who saved Elissa's life to the gallows.'

Teagan smiled warmly at the King. 'I was rather hoping you would say that,' he said. 'But what can we do?'

He didn't know just yet, but he had an idea of who might.

-…-

Alistair found Elissa at the lakeside in the village. He had been on the way the to tell her that her clothes had been returned, washed and mended when he had heard the raised voices. Alistair had followed after her, but in the time he had spent telling Daylen what would happen Elissa had managed to change, chucking her dress aside in favour of her own clothes and vanish. After the commotion, he decided it was better to let the Cousland fire wane a little before handling it hence his foray into kitchen. He knew she would reappear when she was ready, no doubt wielding the Cousland blade she kept religiously at her side and poke Daylen with it a few times.

He should probably stop that though; Daylen was the only Grey Warden in Ferelden and he'd be damned if he'd let Ferelden fall that badly no matter how much the man was a dick from time to time. So true to his prediction, Elissa resurfaced on the lake side whittling some arrows for her quiver. As her blade worked over the wood, she stared out over the sparkling lake that was still dotted with smoke plumes. She gave no indication that she heard his approach but as soon as he was close enough, she spoke.

'Is he really Ferelden's last hope against the Blight?' she asked, still working away, still gazing over the lake.

Alistair sat down beside her with a sigh. 'He's a good man, usually,' he said.

Elissa glanced at him. 'I suppose, he sent the Circle here to help Connor when he could have just as easily killed the boy, but still,' she said with a heavy sigh. 'How is Eamon?'

'Still sleeping,' said Alistair, his own gaze going to lake. 'Isolde has returned to suggesting that the Urn will help us.'

Elissa put down her tools and leant back against the steps she was sitting on. 'Yes, let us go in search of some magical relic from mythology. We'll go dragon hunting while we're at it for all the good it will do.'

'Liss,' he said softly.

She shrugged helplessly. 'It is a fool errand that nearly cost Redcliffe its existence and she wants to continue the search? Why? Leliana is of the opinion that it cannot be done.'

'She just wants to save her husband,' said Alistair quietly, 'for all her faults, Isolde does love him.'

Another glance, this time with a raised eyebrow. 'Then she should be chasing practical solutions, not hare-brained schemes based on some thousand year old legend with more dead ends than the Deep Roads.'

'Teagan also believes it's the right thing to do,' muttered Alistair.

'I must have hit him on the head harder than I thought,' she mused to her husband.

'They are scared Elissa,' he said quietly, 'and to be frank, so am I.'

Elissa reached over and grabbed his hand as she scooted closer to him. 'We'd all be fools not to be scared Alistair,' she said solemnly. 'The world has changed beyond recognition and I fear only a few people stand between the Darkspawn and the destruction of Ferelden. With each day that passes I fear that I will have to be one of those people.'

'Here's hoping good conquers all,' he said quietly, wrapping an arm around her. Elissa placed her head on his shoulder. 'Teagan collared me earlier.'

Elissa made to look up but he held her in place. 'Kallian,' she said. 'I was going to tell you eventually. What did Teagan say? Are we to hang her in the village square?'

'Do you think so poorly of Teagan?' asked Alistair. 'He would rather see Kendells swing.'

'Wouldn't we all,' she said, 'so what is your verdict, Your Majesty?'

Alistair leant away from her to look in her eyes. 'Liss,' he said softly. 'I came down here to ask you what you thought we should do.'

Elissa shrugged. 'I don't know,' she said, 'I had an idea but that was before Highever was burned and Cailan killed. Now I don't know, she killed those men but I would not be alive if it were not for her.' She cocked her head towards him. 'I thought you would be, I don't know, angrier.'

'More surprised really,' said Alistair leaning back on the steps. 'She's so tiny, even for an elf.'

'I wouldn't let her hear you say that,' Elissa remarked trying not to smile.

-…-

'I am not chasing legends,' said Daylen cutting his hand through the air. 'Much less any legend that left us with the Circle and the Templars.'

Teagan frowned at the mage before looking at Alistair and Elissa. 'I take you are with him on this,' he asked of the Queen.

'We have to agree on something,' said Elissa with a shrug. 'Irving,' she said turning to the First Enchanter, 'are you certain there is nothing more than can be done. The poison is not one from legends so surely something can cure it?'

'Had he not been enthralled by the Desire Demon, I would agree with you, Your Majesty, but I fear there is little any of us can do,' he said slowly. He would know, he'd been examining the Arl since breaking demon's hold on Connor. 'It is a mix of potent poison and dangerous magic.'

'Alistair, what are your opinions, given that you will no doubt be more than happy to turn anything else you suggest into Royal Commands,' said Daylen, still bitter from the earlier confrontation, more so because he knew he'd been a prat.

Alistair looked at Teagan. 'You say this Brother had compelling evidence of the Urn's existence.'

'Not you as well,' huffed Elissa. 'Leliana has looked through the evidence, if the Urn exists we are not going to be able to find it. Genitivi has been looking for over thirty years and found nothing.'

She hadn't said it out aloud but she was sick of the Chantry and their teachings and beliefs after seeing Alistair struggle with the Lyrium he had been forced to consume. The truth of what Templars went through was sickening and to think that her beloved might have been one of those men angered her more than anything. Now she was being called upon to participate in a wild goose chase while the Darkspawn marched on the land and Loghain and Howe seized power. Yes, Eamon's experience would be a bonus, but Alistair was far more well liked among the ranks of the nobility than he thought. With Teagan alive, and closer in demeanour to the slightly reluctant King, Alistair could be tutored into something formidable both on the field and off it without losing that common touch to him that was unique for the nobility of Ferelden. In fact, Teagan would be a far more sensible choice, particularly as he had already struck a blow at Loghain in front of every noble who had made it back to Denerim with the news of the Kings death. When she had voiced that opinion to Teagan, he demurred claiming that only his brother could really help. She was beginning to wonder what it was with younger brothers these days; there was a time when younger siblings were more ambitious after being passed over for the crime of not being born first.

'Yes,' said Teagan, ignoring Elissa's frustrated remark as he was already well versed in what she thought. 'But it will require going to Denerim.'

'Oh joy,' muttered Daylen, 'the dragon's den. I'll just go get that target for my forehead, perhaps a sign also that says my name and rank on it?'

'Daylen,' hushed Kallian.

'No,' said Daylen, forcefully, spitting the words out. 'I can accept that I am a walking target now Howe's men have seen me, and I'll be happy to have Her Majesty and her companions along with us, but you ask too much. By the time we reach Denerim, the only person the city guard have an outside chance of not being acquainted with is Morrigan and we can't very well send an apostate into the city when she was awed by a village the size of Lothering.'

'He has a point,' said Alistair, 'we are all recognisable.'

'You're overestimating the abilities of the city guard, they are overtaxed at best, particularly as most of the men did not return from Ostagar. Not to mention any wanted posters, well, there bound to get your nose wrong or something,' put in Elissa. 'That's assuming, of course, that we go to Denerim.'

'Aren't you against this?' enquired Alistair, looking at his wife. 'In fact you've been more vocal on the matter than Daylen.'

'Looking for the Urn, yes' clarified Elissa, 'but I could do with going to Denerim. The family vault is in Denerim, if Howe hasn't gotten passed the wards, which he shouldn't have, then there will be supplies there, and money we can use.'

Wynne cleared her throat. 'If I might offer an opinion,' she said softly, 'it cannot hurt to at least see if Genitivi has made further progress. The letters mention a new lead.'

'There is also a better chance of receiving up to date news in the city as well,' said Leliana. 'No doubt you are most eager to know of Loghain's plans, particularly if these men have seen you.'

'Also, we'll pass by the Brecelian Forest, we may be able to speak with any elves in the area,' added Alistair, reminding them of their actual mission.

Daylen sighed. 'Fine,' he said holding up his hands, 'but it's the forest and then Denerim. But if news reaches us that the codger has died then we're not going anywhere near the cursed city.'

'There is something else,' said Kallian hesitantly. 'It's kind of important actually, Daylen, the map?'

Daylen turned his attention in the direction of Kallian. 'Right, yes, Alistair,' he said putting his hand into a pocket on his robe. 'While we were travelling back we encountered a man whom Kallian informs me was part of King Cailan's Honour Guard.' He held the map out. 'He had been charged with passing a key to you or the Grey Wardens in the event of your death. I understand it opens the Royal Arms Chest.'

Alistair stepped forward and took the map from the Mage. He examined it, his eyes tracing over the little points that marked familiar landmarks within the camp at Ostagar; his tent, Cailan's, the Grey Wardens and one that indicated where the key was hidden, near the old mage's encampment.

'Elric said you would know what was in there, Your Majesty,' said Kallian, 'and that it was important that no one get to it first.'

The King slipped the map into a pocket. 'Morrigan can you guide us back through the wilds to Ostagar and back again?' he asked the Marsh Witch.

'If I must,' replied Morrigan.

'What is in there that is so important?' asked Daylen.

'My father's sword,' said Alistair, 'and, I think, some correspondence with Orlais. I suppose that will need to be kept out of Loghain's hands.'

Daylen was once again looking unimpressed. 'So a family heirloom?'

'If the rumours about the sword are true,' said Wynne, 'then it is a very powerful weapon to have against the Darkspawn. Legend has it that the runes inscribed into the blade weaken the darkspawn.'

Alistair nodded. 'Well call me sentimental, but I left behind a few darkspawn that really deserve a sword through the middle.'

'Only a few?' enquired Elissa wryly.

'Rather a lot,' replied Alistair.

Wynne looked up at Daylen. 'The events at Ostagar still haunt my thoughts, Warden. If that is where we are headed, I would like to accompany you.'

Daylen nodded his head. 'Well, if that is the case, then we'll head there first,' he said, 'then see what can be done about the elves and then, only once this is all done, will we consider Denerim. Agreed?' The group murmured it's agreement. 'Excellent, then we must waste no time and we'll leave tomorrow.'

'But tomorrow is Satinalia,' said Leliana.

Daylen turned on the Lay Sister. 'Do the Darkspawn celebrated Satinalia?'

'No,' replied Leliana.

'Then neither do we,' said Daylen. 'We leave at sunrise.'

-…-

'Your Majesty?' Teagan called as the Queen departed the meeting, bringing her to an abrupt halt in the corridor.

She smiled at the Bann as he walked towards her. 'You are certain you will go with them?' he asked as he approached.

'I fear you will be in danger if I remain,' she told him. 'I will be fine. We've all made it this far.'

'And if you are with child?' asked Teagan. 'You cannot go running around on this mission carrying the next Theirin heir.'

Elissa scratched her head and looked at the Bann. 'I have thought of that, but I might not be. I can't sit here and wait to see what happens Teagan. I will have to return here if I am, but until then, I will remain with Alistair.'

Teagan gave her a lopsided smile. 'I rather thought you would say that,' he said, 'with that in mind, would you mind if I offered you something?'

The Queen of Ferelden lifted one of her eyebrows as Teagan set off. She followed him somewhat at a loss as to what he was doing. He led her from the main corridors of the castle through some servant corridors and down into an armoury. He didn't pause as he walked through the main room lined with steel chain and swords. Instead he came to a halt at a large door at the end and pulled out a key. Elissa bit on her lip because she was starting to get a sneaking suspicion of where all this was going and it was a matter of getting the response right.

Behind the door was precisely what she feared; a large set of armour tailored not for a man but a woman. It was a thing of Ferelden legend, modern legend but legend none the less. It was unimpressive in many ways, but distinctive. Mind you what young girl, including herself, hadn't played at being Warrior Queen Rowan, the wife of Maric the Savour. She felt an odd sensation, because while this was a great honour and she had played at being the Warrior Queen of the occupation, Rowan was not Alistair's mother and that just felt off. Elissa nervously fiddled with her fingers as Teagan looked expectantly at her.

With a deep breath to steady herself, she levelled her gaze at Teagan. 'Don't doubt this is an honour, Teagan, because really, it is,' she said, 'its also, in many ways, a dubious offer. I'm not the next Warrior Queen of Ferelden and I don't feel as if this is right.'

Teagan gave her one of his unusually shrewd looks. 'Because Rowan was not Alistair's mother?'

'That and I'm not warrior,' she said. 'Not in the traditional sense anyway.'

The Bann of Reainsfere smiled at her. 'I don't like the idea of you going out in just your hunting gear to face the Darkspawn.'

'I know,' she acknowledged with a smile, 'but I need to be able to move and that is Heavy Plate, I'd never manage it. While I agree this is far from ideal, until I can get into the Cousland vault it is the best I have.'

Teagan bowed to her. 'As you wish, my Queen. But know that the offer still stands.'

She smiled at the Bann before she took her leave off him, shaking off the awkwardness of his offer. It really was an honour, but she was not Queen Rowan. In the back of her mind, she knew the comparisons would start eventually. It was wearing to be reminded of the weight setting on her shoulders. Ferelden really did rest on decisions that would be made by her and Alistair in the coming weeks and months. Everyone would be looking at her and comparing her to Rowan, who was equally revered for her prowess in battle and her compassion on the throne, while Alistair would be sized up against Maric the Saviour just as Cailan had been. For the first time since discovering that she was Queen, Elissa doubted herself. She had been trained in the arts of survival and court but her ability to make decisions and rule alongside her husband were untested. What if it all went horribly wrong and the whole of Ferelden ended up consumed by the Blight? Would they be as ridiculed in the future as Brandel the Defeated was now for his failures against Orlais? The fate of Ferelden, possibly all of Thedas, rested on her and Alistair and for the first she understood his reticence about becoming Prince all those months ago.

She was still musing on that thought as she entered her living room. Elissa paused in the doorway long enough to see Alistair still poring over the map with an unreadable expression on his face.

'You okay?' she asked closing the door.

Alistair put the map down. 'Not really,' he confessed. 'It's the confirmation that Cailan went into that battle to die and kept me out to make me King. His stupid pride stopped him from pulling back all those men and he got them killed. He's almost as guilty as Loghain for the slaughter there.'

Elissa looked down as she fiddled with one of the rings on her fingers, her father's signet right, twisting it. She didn't really have much to say to that. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

'Not your fault,' he said tersely. 'I'm just angry that he could be so irresponsible. He was the King.'

'Don't be angry,' replied Elissa. Alistair looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she continued. 'It doesn't suit you one bit.' She dropped her hand and jammed them in the pockets of her coat. 'Cailan was irresponsible, but it has always been so. Bringing you into the whole equation was easily been the most sensible thing he has done in his life. The thing now is for you and I to work out how best to deal with what we've been left.'

He smiled warmly at her. 'Anyway, I'm not the only one with a bee in my bonnet. You look troubled.'

'Ah, yes, the inevitable comparisons have started,' she said, causing him to look at her in confusion. 'Whether or not I like it, I may end up being considered Ferlden's next Warrior Queen.'

He snorted with a bit of barely contained laughter. Elissa rose her eyebrow at him, feeling slightly put out that he thought this funny.

'It's not funny,' she said pulling her hands out of her pockets and crossing them over her chest in the manner of a wife about to scold her husband. 'The last thing I am is a warrior.'

'True,' he agreed getting to his feet. 'It's certainly not a word I would use to describe you.' he looked at her stood there in her leggings, chemise, bodice and coat. 'Roguish, perhaps, Goddess even' then he chuckled as he took the hand that wasn't tucked away and pulled her into his arms.

'Flatterer,' she whispered as she returned to wondering what history would say about her one day.

_A/N2: I will attempted to update again between now and Christmas, but, I've got uni projects to write up and my family seemed to be continually ill and icky (the joys of being a mum, lol). The next chapter is coming along nicely, but I've got a 2:1 to get at the very least, if not a full 1:1. _


	12. Haunted Ground I

_A/N: I am so sorry, this has only been sat on my PC for two weeks. However, I had an essay to write and thankfully, I actually did a really good job on it. Then it was Christmas. But here it is. Updating from here on in will be less regular as I have my degree to work around plus this is all new stuff where as the first ten chapters were adapted from my original run. Happy holidays, everyone and Happy New Year. _

_**Part Three: Haunted Ground**_

_**4th Firstfall, 9:30. Lothering, Ferelden. **_

Less than a day from Lothering, Elissa halted their progression and crouched down pulling off her glove as she put her palm flat to the ground. She frowned, the ground was dead and corrupted, and she could feel it. As she stood, she found that everyone was looking at her.

'The land is dying,' she stated as she pulled her glove back on and called Cassius to heel.

As a young girl, she had discovered an affinity to the earth and its creatures. Her father had taught her how to use that to her advantage and it had certainly served her well in escaping from Highever. Fae called it a form of old magic; a connection to the earth that was older than the magic of mages. The idea made Elissa a little uncomfortable and she had ignored the Highever apostate's explaination for her skill in favour of the mundane excuse of hard work and practice.

Daylen frowned. 'The Blight is spreading unchecked,' he said. 'Why isn't Ferelden fighting it?'

He was agitated; they had all noticed it and as they had drawn closer to the horde, his nights overcome by dreams that left him crying out in his sleep. Yet, he would not speak of what it was he saw in those night hours and it was beginning to show; there were bags under his eyes and his already bad temper got worse. The only person who had actively tried to find the underlying cause of it was Kallian who Daylen had taken into his confidence somewhat, but even she was at a loss as to his worsening state.

'They are fighting amongst themselves,' said Elissa as she started back along the road.

'Your nobility do realise that they are currently fighting over a house that is burning down, don't they?' asked Daylen walking after her.

The burn from the Taint was nagging at him the closer they got to Lothering and to where the bulk of the horde was. It was venom, poisoning him and bringing out evil in his thoughts. Right now, it was aimed at the young Queen as she set the pace to reach Lothering by early afternoon.

Elissa looked over her shoulder. 'Most likely not,' she replied. 'No one believes this is a Blight, Daylen. Nearly every man alive believes the darkspawn were finally defeated in the Fourth Blight.'

For a moment, Daylen's increasingly ill temper got the better of him and he shot his hand out, grabbing Elissa's wrist in an iron grip and spinning her around to face him. 'Why do you believe otherwise?'

'Do you swear on your life that this is a Blight, Daylen Amell formally of Kirkwall?' she demanded of him as she wrenched her wrist free before laying a hand on her dagger. The whole group were now looking at them in alarm. Alistair moved closer to step between Elissa and Daylen but they both ignored him as the tension-filled silence stretched between them. 'Well, Ser Mage?'

If her demand was extreme, Daylen didn't say anything. If he could have looked at her in the eye and swear he would have. The archdemon haunted his dreams every night unrelentingly and there was no reason to lie about that. 'Yes, I would swear on my life, and so help me if I am lying,' he said to her. 'This is a true Blight I can feel it just as you can feel the earth dying.'

Elissa gave the mage a short, sharp nod of acknowledgement before casually adjusting her cloak. 'Time is wasting then.' Then she stepped in very close to the Grey Warden. 'Touch me again, Amell, and I will kill you, are we clear.'

'Crystal, Your Majesty,' he said without a trace of sarcasm that usually tainted his voice.

-…-

'They do know there is a great big horde headed straight for them, why haven't they left?' Alistair asked the group as they approached the village gates.

Worse than the last time they had visited, the village was full of haphazardly pitched tents and people wandering around as if they were utterly lost.

'Many of these people have never known anywhere else and are just as scared to leave as to stay,' said Leliana softly as she looked around at the obvious despair.

'They are fools, but if they wish to be trampled alive, so be it,' muttered Morrigan as they were halted at the gates to the village by a fully armed Templar.

'If you are looking for food and shelter, you will find none here, the village is full,' stated the Templar firmly, his voice echoing against his bucket styled helmet.

'We aren't staying,' said Alistair. 'Passing through on our way to Denerim.'

'Shouldn't you be moving them on, Ser?' asked Elissa. 'The Darkspawn horde approaches.'

'Yes,' agreed Daylen, 'they cannot be more than a week away.'

'How do you know such things?' asked the Templar, turning on the Mage. 'What magicks do you possess?'

'I am a Warden, sworn to protect this land against the darkspawn, no matter the cost,' replied Daylen in a surely voice crossing his arms over his chest.

'Even at the cost of the King's life?'

Alistair stepped forward planting himself between the Templar and Daylen, his hand on his sword. Unlike the last time that they have travelled through Lothering, this time Alistair didn't hide the heraldry on his armour. They needed Howe and Loghain wasting their energy running after them not causing more trouble within the Bannorn.

'The Grey Wardens were not responsible for the death of my brother, King Cailan,' he said in a low voice that rang with quiet authority.

The Templar did a double take before bowing to the new King. 'My apologies Your Highness, I did not recognise you. You are much changed from when you rode through with the King and Loghain has told all that you died alongside His Majesty. There is a bounty on the head of any Warden for double regicide.'

'Thankfully, that is not the case,' replied Alistair, his voice a little tight. 'But my Grey Warden friend is correct, the Horde marches closer with every passing day and it cannot be far now. Get the villagers out now before it is too late.'

The Templar bowed again. 'As you wish, Your Highness, I will inform Ser Bryant of your recommendations.'

The Templar turned and started walking back to the Chantry. As he moved out of earshot Alistair let out the breath he had been holding. He'd never really taken advantage of the fact that he could command the people beyond the petty arguing he had been engaged in with Daylen and Elissa in Redcliffe. The whole command thing wasn't really him but as he turned he caught Elissa with a faint smile on her lips as she walked to his side and slide her arm into his. She had told him that he needed to step up to the authority his position allowed him, that he could save a lot of people if he wasn't so afraid of the power he had.

'That was scary,' he muttered, 'that was, wow, did I just do that?'

His wife nodded. 'You just did that.'

Daylen reached out and grabbed his upper arm. 'Thank you,' he said.

'You're welcome,' he said a little tightly. Alistair still had not forgiven Daylen for the way he had spoken to Elissa, but as she didn't seem to be holding Daylen's behaviour against him, Alistair wondered if it was petty that he did. 'You think we should stop for supplies and information while we're here?'

'As much as we can,' agreed Daylen. 'We should split up so as not to draw attention to ourselves, we are quite a large group.'

-…-

'They say,' said the drunk in Dane's Reach, 'that a great dragon swooped down on the Tower of Ishal, spewed out a breath of fire before launching into the night. I reckon it was one of those Archdemon thingys. The Chantry says they are the tainted Dragon Gods of Tervinter.'

Elissa knocked back a mouthful of ale, which was not in its best condition. 'That's extraordinary,' she remarked. 'Kallian, isn't that an amazing tale?'

The elf looked at the drunk with the exact same expression she had given Leliana when the lay sister had told them of her vision in the same tavern less than a month before. 'Earth shattering,' she drawled. 'Do we really have to listen to this? It's not exactly news, and Daylen wanted news.'

'This place is full of hysterical rumours Kallian, if we get one straight story out of anyone I'll be surprised,' said Elissa, forcing another mouthful of the foul beer. 'Besides, you are very keen to take Daylen's orders.' She looked at the over filled tavern her eyes falling on familiar heraldry. She cut across any reply Kallian intended to make on the matter of Daylen. 'Loghain has men here,' she said in an undertone, slipping her hand to her waist and readying her sword.

'Why?' asked Kallian, mimicking Elissa's actions.

'The Templar said that Loghain had declared the Warden's traitors,' she said, 'perhaps they are here to watch and wait?'

'Wait for what?' asked Kallian.

'Any surviving Wardens I suppose,' replied Elissa, 'maybe the progression of the Darkspawn.'

'You said no one really believes that this is a Blight,' countered Kallian.

There was a chuckle from one of the men at the bar. 'This ain't a Blight, girl,' he said, 'Loghain says it isn't.'

Elissa pressed her lips together. 'Loghain is always correct, I take it?' She asked, turning in her chair to face the man whose armour bore the arms of the Teryn in question. 'The Warden's declared a Blight, killed the King and themselves?'

'Well, he saw the Warden's betrayal, plain as day,' said the man, 'left us behind in case some got away. There was one that wasn't with the rest of them.'

Elissa nodded thoughtfully and turned back to her mead. 'Maybe he was spirited away by a great dragon,' she said taking a sip of the warm drink, glancing at the drunk who seemed to have lolled into his tankard.

'Hasn't been a dragon seen in over thirty years,' pitched in an older man, 'not since good King Maric and Teryn Loghain brought down the Orlesians at River Dane.'

She knew the story well of course, her own father had been among the men flying his colours, the silver and blue of the Terynir of Highever. The thought of her kind, beloved father made her clamp down on her bottom lip and disguise her pain with more mead. As she put down her cup, the door spun open and Loghain's man spun like he had scented a rabbit. It became obvious, although not unexpected, that Loghain's man was not alone. Elissa didn't need to turn around to know who had just entered; to get such a reaction it was only likely to be one of two people.

'So, you are in league with the Wardens, Your Highness. Not enough to be a Prince, why stop there when you can be King?'

Elissa exchanged a glance with Kallian. To them, who both who knew Alistair well, they doubted anyone bar Loghain could come up with a concept so preposterous. She couldn't help it, but Elissa shook her head and laughed. The guard pierced her with a look, and she returned it sharply. 'If Loghain told you to jump off a cliff you would, wouldn't you?'

'You side with these traitors?' he asked as she got up.

She turned to look at Alistair; she didn't miss the brief quirk of his eyes or the soft, warm smile he gave her. When Elissa was close enough, Alistair grabbed her free hand, with dramatic flair that had Kallian rolling her eyes he kissed her knuckles. 'My Lady,' he said before getting into a position that partially protected her.

'We are not the traitors,' he said. 'Loghain betrayed Cailan and I on the battlefield

'Lies,' hissed back the guard as his men pushed in closer to him. 'Loghain saw the Warden's betray the King.'

The man was moving before anyone else could speak and suddenly from all sides Loghain's men pressed on them. Elissa whipped around, pulling her sword free and meeting the first blow that came her way. Her free hand reached around her back and pulled her dagger for her off hand as she spun out of the way of a second man making her hit the door which opened and she flew through rather unexpectedly. She squeaked not managing to recover herself before she hit a post outside. It left her vulnerable but she managed to duck the sword that came around for her; the blade embedded in the wood instead of her head and she turned herself so she could kick the man in the knee.

It gave her the advantage she needed to get the space on the attacker as he steadied himself then wrenched the blade free. He was clearly hoping his sheer size would prove to be his advantage point, but Elissa managed to meet each blow deftly, parrying and ducking. She quickly realised that her opponent was putting some much power into his blows that he would soon tire himself. However, she wasn't about to let this carry on much longer than she needed to, lest she inadvertently lose her advantage over her opponent. The moment he left himself wide open she brought her sword down, slicing downward with her long sword and then across with her dagger, dragging it across his throat. It wasn't deep enough to kill him, but he was disabled and would certainly talk with a rasp for the rest of his life. At the same time, the captain of the guard fled from the tavern, running for his life, hotly pursued by her murderously inclined maidservant.

Elissa had never once doubted that Kallian killed all the men in the Arl of Denerim's estate, she had seen it in the girl's eyes but seeing her in action was terrifying. There was nothing quite like an angry elf and Kallian was one angry elf with a body count to match. She watched in fascination as the elf managed to catch up to and leap on the guard. At this point, she decided it was time to intervene and started to jog over yelling Kallian's name.

But the elf wasn't holding a dagger as she brought her fist up to pummelled the hapless solider. Over and over again Kallian's fists hit the face of the man she had straddled, pinning his arms. Elissa stopped short of the scene and Alistair joined her.

'I can see it now,' he remarked as he watched the elf in action. 'It's a terrifying thought actually.'

Elissa smiled faintly as Kallian drew back her fist and knocked the man out cold.

As she looked up, both Elissa and Alistair had not managed to school their expressions. Kallian stood, straightening herself. 'They called you a traitor and a murderer,' she said to Alistair.

'Well, remind me not to get on your bad side,' he said with a smile.

Rather surprisingly, Kallian shied from the comment making Elissa laugh aloud at the elf's sudden display of sheepishness. Embarrassed by her actions, Kallian wandered off in the direction of Leliana who has speaking with the woman who had been identified as the town elder. Alistair turned to Elissa.

'I think she has a crush on me,' he declared.

Elissa raised an eyebrow at him with a smirk on her lips. 'You are such an idiot.'

'Aww now you've gone and hurt my manly feelings, Liss,' he whined before he looked at the unconscious man bearing Loghain's heraldry. 'What are we doing with him?'

She frowned for a second. 'A message for Ferelden's self-proclaimed protector, I think Your Majesty.'

Aside to the commotion, Morrigan approached Daylen. 'I was not planning on staying within the village,' she announced as he listened to Alistair tell Loghain's man his message for the Regent. 'But there was something of import I thought you should be aware of.'

Daylen turned his attention to the witch in front of him. 'Oh?' he queried.

'Let us just say, from what I understand, what will interest is the Chantry's use of punishment,' she explained. 'You may also wish to bring the Templar along. No doubt he will have an opinion on the matter.'

-…-

'If they wanted him to be executed for his crime, it should have been swift,' spat Alistair as they marched back to the Chantry. 'Not left to die of hunger or be devoured by the bloody darkspawn. It's inhumane for anyone.' His blood was still boiling from the from the brawl in the tavern.

The huge bronzed skin giant had calmly explained that he had murdered an entire farmstead and that his punishment had been to sit in the cage until he died. He had not been given food or water but had survived for over twenty days. Daylen had listened as Morrigan suggested they release the Qunari and make use of him while Alistair had fumed about the nature of how the sentence was being carried out. He led the way back into the Chantry, marching up to Ser Bryant and demanded to know where he could find the Revered Mother.

The Templar in charge of Lothering's defences looked at Alistair a little startled as he realised this was the man who had cleared out the bandits that had been fleecing the fleeing victims of the oncoming horde. The Templar pointed in the direction of the back on the chapel before stepping aside.

As Alistair marched off, the Templar addressed Daylen. 'What is this about?'

'The Qunari on the town's edge,' explained Daylen. 'The punishment seems a little inhumane, does it not?'

'Indeed,' agreed Bryant. 'I would have run him through there and then, but the Revered Mother believes his fate should be left to the Maker.'

'Thank you,' said Daylen, 'if you'll excuse me?'

'Do you require aid?' asked Bryant.

Daylen shook his head. 'No doubt the sound of my companion fuming will lead me in the right direction,' he explained, 'but thank you for your kind offer.'

'As you wish,' replied Bryant as Daylen went on his way.

As predicted, Alistair's raised voice indicated the direction he was required to go in, finding the Prince as he spoke harshly with the Revered Mother.

'So you leave him in pain?' enquired Alistair dangerous, sounding every inch the King of Ferelden. He was starting to gain confidence with his new position, Daylen realised. No doubt that Elissa was probably doing a lot to help him realise that confidence. 'His murder of those farmers was less painful that what you subject to him.'

'And who are you to tell me what I am and am not to do?' asked the Mother harshly. Clearly she wasn't used to being opposed.

'I'm the King of Ferelden,' he told the woman. 'As such, this matter falls to my hands and not yours.'

The Mother of the Lothering Chantry blinked. 'Impossible,' she said. 'Loghain himself declared the King and Prince dead. I will not listen to this hearsay.'

Daylen was certain his mouth was likely to be hanging open at such a retort. Having seen Alistair in the Fade he knew the King's Theirin heritage was so obvious for all to see that only a fool would deny was right in front of them. He stepped forward without really know what it was he planned to say.

'I will say that it is not hearsay,' he said to her. 'But if you will not believe him than believe me when I say that I am with the Grey Wardens and I require that you release the Qunari into my custody to fight against the Blight.'

'Grey Wardens? Pretend Kings?' The Mother's voice had changed, she sounded scared. 'You should not be here.'

'It was Loghain and not us who left King Cailan to die,' muttered Daylen. He sighed before speaking with more confidence. 'The true threat is the Blight, and I need someone like the Qunari in battle.'

'Absolutely not,' replied the Mother, 'I will not add to your lawlessness, now be gone before I have the Templar's run you through.' Then she looked at Alistair. 'You should be ashamed, making such claims of birth. I saw both the King and Prince ride through and you look like neither.'

Daylen stepped forward, grabbing Alistair's arm. 'Come my friend, we are not welcome here,' he said to the King. 'Don't say anything stupid, she clearly believes Loghain's word, we should move on.'

The group followed back through the Chantry and out into the courtyard.

'How dare she,' fumed Alistair. 'Petty, small minded Chantry rulers who place their own worth above anything else. And to say I didn't look anything like myself, who does she think she is kidding.'

'Well it confirms that we will not be staying here long,' said Elissa. 'But what of the Qunari? He did murder all those people. He could turn on us at any time.'

Alistair looked at his wife, suddenly very seriously but without anger. 'How is that any different to Kallian?' he asked her softly.

Elissa shrugged. 'I guess it is not,' she agreed.

'And we are not unarmed farmers,' said Daylen, ignoring the information about Kallian but planning to enquire further later. 'There is more than enough skill between us all to subdue him. Alistair, you need an extra hand in battle. You can't continue to take the brunt of it alone and the Qunari are exceptionally skilled in battle.'

'I have to say I agree with Daylen, again,' said Elissa, glancing at the mage. 'We could use the additional skill in front line battle.'

'Are you sure?' asked Alistair looking at her.

'I can't very well advocate saving Kallian while condemning the Qunari for similar actions,' said Elissa heavily, the weight of the decision to save Kallian baring down on her. The Qunari unnerved her but Alistair could not expect to be their only warrior in the oncoming battles with the darkspawn. 'But I believe the ultimate decision stands with you, Alistair.'

He glared at his wife for a moment. She was wily when she wanted to be. Alistair shook his head and chuckled.

'I take it that it is an aye for the Qunari?' asked Daylen.

'It's an aye,' agreed Alistair somewhat reluctantly.

_**Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine, Ferelden. **_

A lone figure watched from a darkened window as a lone rider galloped through the Keep gates. Lady Delilah Howe recognised the man; he was the head of her father's guard and left to steward over Highever. She bowed her head as she thought of her father's actions there. She had been friends with Elissa Cousland for many years, they had played together as children here and in Highever, she had acted as a maid in waiting during Elissa's wedding and gone riding together when Elissa had stopped at the Keep on her journey home after her nuptials. But not only that, the Teryn used to sneak boiled Orlesian sweets under the table to her and the Teryna had given her gifts on feast days. She once had a crush on Fergus and used to trail around after him when Elissa was not looking. A tear escaped her eyes before she stepped away from the window.

By secret paths known only to the servants and her, Delilah made her way down to her father's presumptively named Throne Room and pushed open a secret door behind a tapestry. If Lowan was here then it could only mean one thing; the bastard had found Elissa and brought her back here. When she had heard her father raging that Bryce Cousland's youngest child, now Princess of Ferelden, had escaped his massacre he had stormed around the Keep for days. Delilah had secretly smiled at her friend's escape but she was not hopeful that her survival would continue with a large force of her father's men after her until her father had disclosed his new plan and Delilah had found herself wishing her friend had died.

Lowan bowed to the self-proclaimed Teryn of Highever. 'I very much doubt she has survived the forest around Highever,' said Lowan drily. 'According to the men, she was badly injured. I'll bet the wolves have had her.'

Howe pressed his lips together. 'I don't want you to stop just yet,' he said. 'Someone might be sheltering her in a nearby village.'

'We've turned over all the nearby villages and extended our patrols out to the far side of Lake Calenhad, which is why I've come,' explained Lowan. 'Two men from a patrol send to Rainsferre returned with reports of encountering the Grey Warden that Teryn Loghain has placed a specific bounty on.'

The Arl of Amaranthine looked up in interest at that news. 'Was he alone?'

'No, he travelled with an elf, she was hellfire with her daggers according to the men that survived,' said Lowan.

'Where were they headed?' asked Howe.

'An educated guess might suggest Redcliffe,' he said.

Howe chuckled mirthlessly; a laugh that made Delilah clutch the door frame with dread. 'Well, he won't find much help there,' he said. 'Bann Teagan isn't not a heavy weight in this game is he? He'll be hiding behind his brother, well his corpse. See if we can get men to track his whereabouts. I doubt he stayed long.'

'Shall I have men join Teryn Loghain's men in Lothering?' asked Lowan. 'He may head back towards the scene of the crime.'

'You don't actually think the Grey Warden's killed the King, do you?' asked Howe. 'Their Commander was almost hopping with joy when Cailan allied himself to them.'

Lowan nodded. 'I did wonder,' he admitted. 'Then perhaps he will return to seek evidence of his order's betrayal.'

'Fine, have some men sent there, in disguise and tell them not to engage,' ordered Howe. 'I think we are going to need a more robust approach to this.'

'Meaning?' enquired Lowan.

'Meaning we'll have Loghain pay for an assassin, just in case, you understand,' said Howe. 'He might still end up skewed on a darkspawn sword, if we are lucky. As for the Cousland bitch, I want her alive. Your men so much as even rough her up will find themselves swinging from the gates.'

'As you wish, your Grace,' he said bowing.

Delilah pulled the door shut and as she did so, she bumped into another solid body. A hand clasped around her mouth as she went scream before she was pulled away. She tried to scramble against the man, his iron grip firm across her chest but she wasn't going to give up without a fight. He wrestled her into a room that was accessible by hidden corridors.

'I'm going to let you go, now my Lady,' said the man. Delilah recognised the voice as belonging to the Seneschal, Varel. 'Promise me not to scream.'

He let her go and she scrabbled away into a desk. Varel held up his hands to her to indicate that he meant no harm, but she was not so sure. Everyone in this damn Keep put on charming faces to mask their murderous intentions.

'I did not know you knew these corridors,' he said quietly.

Delilah looked up, a stubborn set to her jaw. 'I had to know if they had found Elissa or not,' she said.

'Have they?' he asked.

'They have not,' Delilah said.

Varel smiled. 'That is good,' he said, 'if they find her, he plans to marry her to Thomas now that the Prince is dead.'

Delilah nodded her head. 'I know,' she said, 'I heard them speak of it. How they plan to get her with child so Thomas has a legitimate claim over Highever and then…' she trailed off, swallowing. 'Then kill her, claim it was from the child birth.' Tears pricked Delilah's eyes and she pushed them away not wanting Varel to see her cry for her friend.

Varel nodded his head gravely. 'I had feared as much,' he said. 'Then what do we do about it?'

Delilah looked at him, blinking in surprise. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean, what can we do about it, if she is found?'

She composed herself, surprised at finding an ally within the Keep. 'We'll help her escape,' said Delilah, 'and when we've done that, I can escape to the town. I have a friend who'll hide me but what of you?'

Varel placed a hand on Delilah's shoulder. 'Do not worry about me, my Lady, so long as you are safe.'

_**The Road to Ostagar, Ferelden**_

The camp fire crackled merrily with a stew from the left over supplies bubbling away. Daylen had warned them that this would be the last fire they would have before they were south of the main horde. He had stomped off after that muttering about setting his wards while the girls drew straws over who would cook. Leliana took to the pot while Elissa skinned the hares she had caught the day before they reached Lothering. Daylen had advised against hunting in the Blighted lands and Elissa could not have agreed more. Blighted meat would only make them sick so from tomorrow they would be rationing the dried food.

Kallian watched Elissa work from the pot, wincing as Elissa used her dagger to peel the skin the hare.

'I don't know why you watch it if you hate it so much,' said Leliana.

'Morbid curiosity,' replied Kallian. 'It's a bit odd, don't you think, that the Queen of Ferelden, the actual Queen is sat over their skinning two hares while humming an old Highever folk song under her breath.'

'I think it's wonderful,' said Leliana. 'In Orlais even the minor nobles make all their servants do everything for them. Most would run away screaming at the thought of putting their hands in the belly of a hare even in desperation for food.'

Kallian smiled. 'Orlesian nobles? Know many of them?'

'Not personally,' said Leliana but was saved from saying anything further as Alistair peered into the pot.

'Are you sure that's right?' he asked. 'There's colour.'

Leliana looked at Kallian who was still rather awkward after her display in the village earlier in the day. Leliana frowned at Kallian as she seemed to melt away. 'It is an Orlesian style stew, tender vegetables with juicy meat, Your Majesty.'

'Alistair,' he corrected. 'And Orlesian style?'

Leliana smiled slowly. 'Alistair,' she amended, 'and yes, Orlesian style.'

'See that is where you are going wrong,' he told her. 'Food shouldn't be frilly and pretentious like that. Now here in Ferelden, we do things right. We take our ingredients, throw them into the largest pot we can find, and cook them for as long as possible until everything is a uniform grey colour. As soon as it looks completely bland and unappetizing, that's when I know it's done.'

She frowned at him. 'You are having me on, no?' she asked as Elissa's chuckles reached her ears.

Alistair smiled, that sort of charming smile that would have women falling in the aisles for him. If he hadn't been so devotedly married he'd be a heart breaker of the first degree. 'You need to eat in more Fereldan inns,' he remarked before making his way over to Elissa who accepted his attention with a wide smile.

Leliana had barely seen Elissa smile before Alistair had arrived in Redcliffe. While she had not lost the sadness in her countenance, at least she now had someone to share her pain who understood. Leliana was familiar with the constitution of arranged marriage and while it produced many content unions, she had rarely seen one that could be described as happy. Lady Elise, her childhood guardian had offered her the chance of position by marrying her into a lesser noble family in Orlais. Then she had stumbled into Marjolaine's path and her life had been inextricably changed forever. Leliana looked back over at Elissa who now seemed to be laughing as she spoke with her husband and for the for first time in a long while she regretted her decision to play the Game. Ferelden's royalty would never trust someone who was taught by the Orlesians how to spy and report on their targets. She sighed heavily as Elissa got to her feet.

'Ready for this?' she asked chucking the meat in the pot without waiting for an answer. Then Elissa looked at her. 'Are you alright? You should really ignore him when it comes to cooking. He can't cook and I don't recall him complaining when my old Nan used to serve up her distinctly not uniform grey food.'

Leliana grinned. 'No, it wasn't that, I was thinking about the people in Lothering and what will become of them,' she said going serious as she mentioned the village that had become her home. It wasn't a lie, it had been on her mind but just not right at that moment.

Elissa nodded. 'They should move on,' she said. 'At least I hope they do, Alistair told the Templars to evacuate but whether they listen or not is another thing. No one can force them to do anything.'

'Ser Bryant is a good man, I am sure he will act,' she said.

The stew was ready less than half an hour later and everyone bar Morrigan who refused to eat with them and Sten, the recently liberated Qunari, gathered to eat dinner. Leliana watched Sten as she mopped up the juices of the stew with a hunk of bread. She turned to Kallian. 'He did not eat for twenty days.'

Kallian looked up and frowned. 'From what I understand,' she said, watching the unmoving Kossith.

Leliana stood up handing her bowl to Kallian who was left with no choice over taking it. Leliana walked over to the pot where there was plenty of left over food and took another bowl, filling it before taking a hunk of bread. By this point, the quite chat had stopped around the camp and all eyes on her. Everyone had been edgy about going near the Sten; not just want he had done, but because Qunari created suspicion in everyone. Their attempt to conquer Thedas still struck fear into Andrastians.

'Are you alright?' Leliana asked, holding out the stew to Sten. 'You were in that cage for weeks.'

The giant Qunari took the bowl. 'Yes,' he said. 'Thank you.'

'It might be the last time we can eat hot food for a while,' she explained as he dipped the bread into the stew. 'Elissa will not hunt in the Blighted Lands and Daylen says we can't have a campfire for a few nights after today.'

The Qunari merely nodded as she backed away, every eye still on her as she made her way back to where she sat with Kallian.

The elf handed Leliana back her meal. 'I think I speak for everyone when I say we think you are crazy.'

-…-

Silence had fallen in the camp as Elissa was left alone for the first watch. It was a freezing night but she was fortunate enough that she had not just the long, thick fur lined cloak to wear but also Cassius had cuddled up to her, his giant head in her lap. Leant against a log close to the fire, she wrote in her journal. It had been years since she felt the need to write down her thoughts, but that had been before she had found herself in the middle of war and being compared to Queen Rowan, she decided she would have to draw the line if anyone even uttered the words 'Rebel Queen'. It was all too much for her to process in her brain alone and she needed an outlet for the complex thoughts.

Behind her footsteps caught the attention of Cassius and her war hound looked up. Just as quickly as he had looked up, he rest his head on his mistress's head again huffing. She stroked his head before glancing back. 'You should be sleeping,' she said, looking at Alistair as he stood back a little.

'I don't like you out here on your own,' he said. 'Not that you can't look after yourself, but…' he trailed off looking out at the darkness. 'The Darkspawn are nothing like anything you've ever faced, they are horrendous and if their contaminates yours, it's a long painful death.' Alistair sat down beside his wife. 'I used to hear the men who had been tainted screaming as it slowly poisoned them in the camp.'

Elissa shuddered, whether from the cold or the thoughts now occupying her mind, she did not know.

'Anyhow, I didn't come out here to scare you with terrible stories from camp, but I have something for you,' he explained with one of his shy smiles. 'I saw it when we were in Lothering today and I didn't get you anything for Satinalia.' He produced a rose from behind him and held it out to her. 'Here, do you know what it is?'

She cocked her head to the side as she took it, a smile tugging on her lips. 'Your new weapon of choice?'

He laughed huskily mostly from the mischievous look in her eyes. Yes, that's right! Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements! Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!' He returned her look. 'Or you know, it's just a rose. Pretty dull in comparison.'

Elissa turned her attention to the velvety red rose, one of the biggest she had ever seen. Ever since they had met in the rose garden, Alistair given her roses regularly and this was easily the most beautiful rose he had given her. Unlike the carefully cultivated roses in Denerim, this one had a wild beauty about it. 'It's lovely, thank you,' she whispered as she took it from him.

'I remember thinking, when I saw it, how could something so beautiful exist in place with so much despair and ugliness,' he explained in a low timbre. 'I probably should have left it alone, but couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So, I thought I would give it you. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you.'

She looked up; Alistair was watching her intently in the fire light. 'Thank you,' she said, before she leant over and kissed him. His hand came up to cup the back of her head and tilt her head back so he could kiss her fully. The kiss came to a slow, natural conclusion a few minutes later and Elissa sat back a bit to look at him again.

'I'm glad you like it,' he said, reaching over to push a lock of hair behind her ear and follow the movement through to stroke her jaw. 'I was just thinking, you haven't been finding any of this easy yet here you are battling on and I wanted you to know that what a rare and wonderful person you are amid all this darkness and tragedy.'

Elissa smiled. 'I caught myself thinking much the same about you,' she said, looking down at the rose.

'Right, so if we could get past this embarrassing stage and straight to the steamy bits, I'd appreciated it,' he quipped with a disarming grin.

'And you were doing so well,' laughed Elissa, looking up to the sky. 'Nearly had me and everything.'

'Well, we could,' he suggested with the quirk of his eyebrow, he leant over. 'I'm sure,' he said kissing her lips, 'everyone else,' he continued moving his to just behind her ear lobe, 'is asleep.'

'Nice try,' she whispered huskily, pulling back a little, 'but I think we could do without the stories of the night one of that lot came out here and saw us, well, you know.'

Alistair sat back. 'You are probably right,' he admitted with a sigh. They hadn't been together since leaving Redcliffe for fear of being overheard. 'How long we got till Kallian is up?'

Elissa shrugged snuggling in close to him. 'Not long enough for, you know, so, you know.'


	13. Haunted Ground II

_Good God, if you want nightmare chapters to write and then subsequently edit, this one is it. I'm not a fan of this chapter, I don't know why, I do know I hate it though. A long one in anticipation of the fact that the next two are rather short in comparision to the last 6-8k chapters that I have put up._

_My thanks to Darkly Tranquil who I'm pretty sure has written more words in this chapter than I have, helping me with some pretty extensive rewriting in some places to make this a hell of a lot better than the original draft, which I hated. But we're in the process of switching gears and here, so that is good and we'll be at some more action soon and Zevran. _

_It also means, I've gotten to a point where I can go do some game playing to plan out the next section of the story. (I have a highly modded save game in Nightmare setting that is being used for the basis of this story with a Cousland Lead, who for my own entertainment is currently engaging in a four way romance. Yup, I've managed to get Alistair, Leliana and Zevran to about 70 adore, but I suspect someone is about to call her on it.) _

_8th Firstfall, 9:30._

Ostagar, Ferelden.

The Tower of Ishal loomed large in the distance as they made the long trek through the wilds to the ruins of the ancient fortress; it had appeared as if from nowhere amidst the squalls of snow and ice several days prior as they struggled through the blizzard-bound landscape. Since then, it had served as a useful waypoint for navigating through the snow-covered landscape towards their destination. The group huddled into their cloaks and quickened their pace as they approached the ruin eager to get this over with as quickly as possible. To avoid the worst of the darkspawn, Morrigan had led them past the western edge of the horde before backtracking east to Ostagar. Due to the boggy nature of the Wilds, most of them struggled, as the ground often seemed to collapse beneath them. Worst off, much to the amusement of Morrigan, was Alistair whose heavy armour weighed him down more than the others. Eventually, the marsh gave way to firmer ground and some clear water in which they eagerly used to divest themselves of as much of the mud that clung to them as possible however, the frigid temperature of the water meant that it was difficult for any of them to get completely clean without running the risk of exposure or frostbite

They entered Ostagar through the main encampment where the bulk of the soldiers had camped. Less than a month ago, the place had been buzzing with life as just under half of Ferelden's army camped here. Now it was desolate; the battered remains of the tents and pavilions of the great houses of Ferelden lay in scattered ruins where they had fallen, the tattered remains of their once proud pennants the only marker to indicate which noble family had camped where. Much to Elissa's surprise, she caught a flutter of blue and silver out of the corner of her eye and she cried out in surprise before breaking away from the group to investigate.

'What the-' complained Daylen at the sudden distraction; he just wanted to get out of there but the others had already made to follow Elissa.

In the chaos and confusion of losing her family Elissa had almost forgotten that her brother, her big, brash, beautiful brother had not been in Highever when Howe struck. At the time, she had a hundred conflicting theories on what would happen to him, predominantly thinking that Howe had sent assassins to kill him. She never thought he would reach Ostagar so she had never asked Alistair to confirm whether he had arrived thinking him fallen to Howe's machinations. Now it appeared that Fergus was dead as the result of a different though no less awful cause and it was like losing him all over again. He had been lost to the blades of the darkspawn never knowing that his mother, father, wife and son had been slaughtered in their home. A sob escaped her throat as a comforting hand came to rest on her shoulder. To his credit, Alistair didn't speak as she leant into his touch, allowing the contact alone to convey his love and support for her in her time of pain. The others drifted away to grant what privacy they could as renewed grief poured from her.

Elissa wiped the tears from her eyes and gave Alistair a weak smile that he returned giving her arm a gentle reassuring squeeze. She looked up over the wreckage at the chests that had been bowled over when the darkspawn had overrun camp. She frowned as she took in the details; the camp had been thoroughly pillaged of weapons and armour but coin was strewn across the floor. 'Why didn't they take the money?' she asked.

'Why would they? They seem more the sort to tear each other apart over food and weapons rather than haggle for it in the Denerim Market,' replied Alistair drily.

'Right, of course,' she said, before turning to the group. 'We should check the big pavilions for coin. There is a whole chest here so who knows what else of use there will be.'

She walked to the pile of coin and began piling it into her pack. Behind her Alistair looked through the other supplies, picking out healing poultices, bandages and unspoilt dried rations. Even though the provisions were from Highever, Elissa couldn't help but feel that they were pilfering from the dead but she had to get over it. The fallen didn't need their equipment anymore, but it could still be of use to the living. It did help her state of mind when Alistair recounted how he had felt the first time he had taken money and supplies from the departed men. She supposed he was right, as she pushed more money in her pack; trading, buying and selling would help the people fleeing from the Blight.

There was no way to take it all but when they regrouped less than twenty minutes later that had found more than a hundred sovereigns between them and enough food and healing supplies to see them back out of the Blighted Lands again. After regrouping, the party set out in a dispersed formation that allowed them to protect themselves effectively. Just before moving into the royal camp, where the Royal Arms chest would be, Daylen held up a hand halting them.

'Just a few,' he said, taking position beside Morrigan.

The darkspawn appeared in an archway that led to the area where the infirmary had been. There were only five of them, but they were strong Hurlocks as oppose to the weaker Genlocks they had encountered in straggling groups as they made their way here. Without hesitation, Elissa and Leliana unleashed their first arrows.. Elissa's first arrow bounced off the heavy armour, she cursed as she nocked another and took aim. Leliana's hit, but it wasn't deep wound and it certainly didn't slow the Hurlock down. Elissa looked over at her fellow archer.

'We'll need to put more power behind the shots,' said Elissa. To illustrate her point, she pulled her bowstring as far back as she could, directing her aim towards a Hurlock that had just appeared waving a staff. Her arrow flew through the air in a graceful arc over the heads of Alistair, Sten, and Kallian before sinking into her target as the three warriors moved to engage the approaching darkspawn.

'Alistair, Emissery,' yelled Daylen as Elissa's next arrow caught the lightly armed darkspawn mage in the neck.

The emissary succumbed to its wounds quickly, but not before it managed to cast a draining spell at Sten. The attack momentarily sapped the great Kossith warrior of all his strength, causing him to slump to the ground defenceless. The Hurlock he had been doing battle with immediately took advantage of the change in circumstances to bring its shield down on the fallen Qunari's back. Daylen threw a freezing spell at it just as Kallian drove her daggers into the creature's back, having managed to circle around it. Seemingly unperturbed, Sten got to his feet and like an unstoppable force of nature, he ploughed into the next creature that attacked as if nothing had happened.

The skirmish did not last long; Kallian killed the last of them with a move that was as elegant as a dancer as she twisted then lunged in a deadly pirouette before plunging her dual daggers into the chest of the Hurlock. She jumped away before too much blood could get on her.

Alistair clapped a hand on her shoulder. 'We should think about getting you trained up properly,' he told the elf.

'I'm sure the last thing you want is me being even more deadly,' she quipped, but he smiled at her.

'In the current climate, I think it might be for the best,' he told her as he handed her a rag to wipe down her blades. 'Particularly if we are to venture to Denerim.' He chuckled as she visibly pale but he said nothing more as he walked back over to the others to regroup before they ventured further in the camp.

-…-

Alistair halted at the top of the stairs for a moment, pausing to survey the half-buried ruins of his own pavilion. Nearby, the tatters remnants of Cailan's and Loghain's tents fluttered forlornly in the cold wind, a lingering testament to the once close relationship that had been torn apart by the general's betrayal. He turned to Wynne who was looking at the Mages' encampment with the same expression he had. While many of the mages had escaped Ostagar, they had still lost some of their number when the Horde had overrun the ruin. Everyone present had lost something to this war already.

'Something about being here makes me feel old, Wynne,' he said to the mage in a tired voice as he looked away from the devastation

She turned to look at him sharply. 'And what exactly are you implying, Alistair?'

He caught her cold gaze. 'What? Nothing! I just thought…'

'You just thought I was an expert at being old and might share some sage advice?' asked the mage crossing her arms over her chest.

Alistair sighed and shook his head before looking down scuffing the dirt with his boots as he tried to articulate his thoughts. 'I just meant I was a different person then. I believe him, you know?' That it would be a glorious battle, that we'd win…' He looked up again at the scene of devastation arrayed before him, spotting some darkspawn roaming beyond the fallen pavilions.

Wynne's expression softened for the young King and she smiled at him. 'I did too,' she admitted with a sigh. 'We were all a little bit younger the last time we were here.'

Alistair quirked his eyebrows at her as a small trace of mischief stole into his grim expression. 'Well, not you. You've always been old.'

'With lip like that, son, you'll be lucky to live to half my age.' Despite her harsh tone, the mage smiled at him as they turned back to the rest of the group who had been rummaging around the supplies found where the royal mess had been finding plenty more dried rations and basic first aid supplies.

'Right, I take it that the map is pretty clear as to where this key is hidden?' interjected Daylen, wiping his hands on his robes.

Alistair pulled out the sheet of thin parchment and consulted it. 'If this is right, then it will be down where the mages' encampment was.' He returned to the spot where he had been talking to Wynne and pointed at a set of statues behind where the main tent had been. 'Down there according to the map.'

'Let's get down there,' said Daylen. 'I don't want to dally here any longer than we have to, there are too many ghosts for my liking,' he said. 'Stick together, everyone, while it isn't swarming with darkspawn, it isn't empty.'

Remaining in the loose formation that had offered them protection from the first skirmish, the group headed down towards the main camp.

-…-

Elissa noticed it just as she slammed her blade into a particularly fierce, large Hurlock that had attacked from behind. She had abandoned her bow in favour of her sword and dagger and as the hulking beast crashed to the floor she caught the unmistakable glint of reddish gold on the forearms. Elissa plunged her sword into the eye socket of the beast, just to make sure it was dead, before she knelt down to examine the gauntlets that had caught her attention.

'Alistair!' she called out looking over to where her husband was pushing aside some rocks with Kallian.

She heard him get up as she pulled a cloth from her pocket to push away at the dirt and grime that coated the gauntlet. 'By the Maker,' she whispered as Alistair joined her. Elissa turned to look at him, he had gone very pale before he crouched down beside her to examine the armour. He swallowed hard before standing up again.

'What the matter, Alistair?' Wynne asked, her eyes darting between the two of them.

He shook his head. 'I don't know,' he said running a hand though his cropped hair. 'It just feels wrong finding this here, pawed over by darkspawn and thick with their rot. It was his.' There was a desperate note to his voice as he looked over at Elissa who had stood up again looking helplessly at the situation. As had been the case with her grief over Fergus before, she knew there were no words of comfort that could relieve his pain.

'I know, I feel it too,' Wynne said, placing a comforting hand on Alistair's arm in a motherly gesture. 'But he is not the first king to ever fall in battle or even the first to fall to the darkspawn.'

He nodded once, a sharp movement that indicated his feelings over the matter. 'Yes, but this wound cuts deeper.'

'And it will bleed longer,' she said in a soothing tone that betrayed her own distress over the matter. 'But we must keep moving; no doubt the darkspawn are eager to give us plenty more reason to mourn.'

'She's right,' said Elissa, with a grateful nod to Wynne. She crouched down again and started unbuckling the set of gilded Silverite gauntlets that had belonged to Cailan. 'If it's all the same with you, I don't want to leave these here. At the very least they deserve to be returned to the custody of Teagan until we can honour Cailan properly.'

Alistair returned to Elissa's side and helped her pull the gauntlets free with a grim look on his handsome face; she knew there was not much she could say to him to ease his pain. She turned to Kallian who was now examining the key she had found with interest. The elf looked up and held up the key for Elissa to see.

'This has to be it, right?' she asked getting up and walking over. 'It has King Cailan's crest on it.'

'You've found it?' asked Daylen. 'Great, then we should be able to get out this Maker forsaken place.' He looked around as if he were seeing something the rest of them could not see.

'No,' said Alistair.

'No?'

'We need to find the rest of Cailan's armour and if possible, his body,' said Alistair. 'He deserved to be put to rest.'

-…-

_Amaranthine City, Ferelden. ___

Everyone was looking at her. Eyes and whispers followed her as she pushed her way through the market. Just a month ago, people stopped her in the street to wish her well, now they shunned her for the actions of her father. No one believed that the Couslands were traitors; they were universally respected throughout their lands they stewarded for the fairness and justice of their rule, including within the Arling of Amaranthine. In fact, there had been occasion when Bryce Cousland had spoken out about her father's high levies or aggressive conscription of soldiers. Ignoring the looks and whispers, she made her way to a small shop by the Merchant's Guild and pushed her way inside.

The bell above the door jangled twice, once as she opened it, and again as she closed it. Delilah wrung her hands. It had been weeks since she had last seen Albert; he had left her with flowers and a chaste kiss before heading to Denerim for supplies. Older than her by five years, Albert had been widowed after his wife had been killed in an bandit ambush seven years earlier at their farmstead on the Feravel Plain.

'You shouldn't be here, it isn't safe,' said Albert as he walked in from a back room.

'It isn't safe at the Keep,' replied Delilah grimly. 'It isn't safe anywhere.'

Albert smiled softly at her. 'I can't help you Delilah, the whole town is in uproar.'

'I don't blame them,' she said, starting to pace. 'The Couslands were a good family.' She turned to face him. 'I know you say you can't help me, but I might need you to. My father's men have reported that the Princess might still be alive. My father has plans for her if she is, plans I wish to stop.'

Albert rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'Do you know what these plans are?'

'Yes,' she said. 'But after that, I will need to get away from the Keep. Father will kill me if he ascertains my involvement.'

'He wouldn't kill his own child,' said Albert. 'No one could be so –'

'Cruel?' asked Delilah bitterly. 'My father could. He's already disowned my older brother and ordered the deaths of everyone in Highever Castle. He claims to have personally killed the Teryn and Teryna.' She shook her head, angry at the tears in her eyes. 'I hate him, Albert and I'd leave the Keep today if it were not for the fact that my friend could very well be in danger. I have to help her first.'

Albert nodded solemnly. 'The farmstead,' he said slowly, 'you'll be able stay there. The tenants there will keep you safe. I'll explain everything to them.'

Delilah smiled at him. 'I won't ever forget this, Albert, not so long as I live.'

_Ostagar, Ferelden._

The Fortress of Ostagar dated from the time in the distant past when the power of the Tevinter Imperium was at its peak and its realms covered the length and breadth of Thedas. Just as it had been at the height of the Imperium, Ostagar was still the southernmost point of recognised civilisation; where it had once marked the boundary of the Imperium's authority, it now served to mark the limit at which Ferelden could claim nominal authority. Beyond that point lay the Korcari Wilds, a no-man's land of swamps and dense forests claimed only by the hardy Chasind wilders, who swore fealty to no authority greater than their own might. It was these lawless wilders that had induced the Imperium to build the fortress centuries ago to keep the disorderly war bands from invading and pillaging the fertile plains of Ferelden. The central feature of Ostagar was the great Tower of Ishal, which speared hundreds of feet into the sky above the Wilds. As the highest point for tens of miles, it granted a stupendous view of the surrounding lands, serving as both a watchtower and warning beacon for impending wilder invasions. The rest of the compound had been a facility for experimentation that resulted in torture of unbearable magnitudes as the Magisters tested human and elven endurance with magic and brutality. The broken souls lost to the Imperium's cruel research clung to the world here, unable to leave the mortal world behind to find peace in the Fade; it had been bad enough when Daylen had arrived here with Duncan, but now it was worse as the souls of Ferelden's army intermingled with the victims of the Imperium.

Daylen did not want to remain searching for the lost pieces of Cailan's armour. It had been hard enough agreeing to come here for the sword let alone anything else, but he supposed Alistair needed closure. The place was crawling darkspawn, it made his blood ring with the call and he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue his quest to stop them or join them as the Archdemon's song demanded. He rubbed his temples as he heard Alistair push open the chest they had come to recover.

'It's all here,' said Alistair as he passed the papers to Elissa who immediately began rifling through them.

She gasped as she skimmed the third page making everyone look at her.

'Did the Orlesians decided not to ally?' asked Alistair looking over her shoulder at the letter. It was written in Orlesian and it took Alistair a few minutes to read it. 'Bloody hell, that's a little familiar is it not? "A permanent alliance between Orlais and Ferelden?"' he quoted in an Orlesian accent. 'That sounds like he was planning to marry her.'

'He was,' Elissa said quietly. 'My father advised Cailan against it but he forged ahead.'

'If Loghain knew about this,' speculated Alistair quietly taking one of the other pages, 'then it gives him motive. He would have been furious enough that Cailan planned to put Anora aside but to marry the Empress as well. Maybe that's what Cailan meant, that night, about crossing Loghain's last line of tolerance.' He ran his hand through his hair. 'Damnit, Liss, we could have had reinforcements here instead Ferelden's army is devastated and a Blight is marching unchecked. They were waiting for a response that will never arrive, thanks to Loghain's treachery.'

'Never is a long time, Alistair,' said Wynne softly. 'Give it time and let cooler heads prevail. There will be peace between us yet.'

The couple looked up from the papers at Wynne. 'I hope you live to see it, Wynne,' said Alistair, folding the parchment and stowing it away behind his armour.

'And I hope the darkspawn do not,' replied Wynne.

Daylen huffed behind them. 'It might not matter if we don't hurry this up,' he said. 'Is the sword there or not?'

Alistair returned his attention back to the chest. He pushed aside some left over clothing revealing a long sword emblazoned with the Theirin crest on the hilt. It felt odd as he wrapped his hand around the hilt of the sword, a tangible reminder of a father who had sat passively back while he had been brow beaten into the Chantry, destined never to follow the footsteps of his Theirin father. He pulled the sword free of the scabbard to examine it. The moment the blade came free of its housing, the runes etched along the length of the blade burst into life, casting a white glow over all those gathered around.

'So the stories are true,' said Leliana looking at the ancient blade.

Legend had it that the sword had not been forged for Maric, instead he had found it in the Deep Roads when he had traversed them to get from one end of Ferelden to the other to avoid the Orlesian Army. As far as plans went, it was daring, if not a little foolhardy. Eventually, Maric paid the price for his bravado when he lost his wife to a sickness he speculated came from the Taint within the lost paths beneath Ferelden.

'At least we have another advanced warning system,' said Elissa, examining the runes etched into the blade.

Daylen had failed to warn them of an impending attack a few days out of Lothering to test the four newcomers to see if they would fight or flee at the sight of the Darkspawn. Elissa was quickly becoming convinced that the bad tempered mage had a death wish as he once again expounded his opinion that she was nothing more than a pretty girl trying to play hero when she should be at home sewing. As he hadn't actually touched her on that occasion she had demonstrated her opinion of his with a short, powerful jab of the fist into his jaw spending him sprawling to the ground as oppose to killing him. No one bothered to point out that hitting blind men was not fair game. She wouldn't have listened anyway.

He knew the remark was for him but he ignored it while the others examined the powerful Darkspawn slaying blade. His eyes were drifting over the lost souls of Ostagar again. Occasionally, a voice rang out to him, mingling in with the cacophony of the voices of his companions and that of the Archdemon song.

'There's a group on the East Battlements,' he said, picking out Kallian's question after she asked where the Darkspawn were that had activated the sword's enchantments.

The group quickly agreed they should dispatch them, all of them keen to track down Cailan's armour. Daylen could not really argue with killing more darkspawn, it certainly seemed preferable to joining their mindless cause. He took his position beside Wynne and Morrigan as the group moved in their loose battle formation up the ramparts.

-…-

Kallian muttered something about killing the next bastard darkspawn that came near her as she nursed the wound to her arm. The steam of curses she uttered would have made a solider blush. Therefore, she was fortunate that only Elissa was in earshot as she dabbed the wound with one of Wynne's potions. The others had moved off to look through the left over supplies leaving the two women alone after Kallian had told Wynne that there might be worse injuries to heal.

'It came from nowhere. His darkspawn sense would be useful, you know,' said Kallian looking at Daylen while Elissa worked. 'I bet they couldn't blindside me so easily.'

Elissa looked up at the Mage, frowning as she watched him look unseeing across the ruin. 'I don't think I'd like the cost,' she said, returning to her ministrations. 'Those nightmares and mood swings he has, they aren't normal.'

'Maybe it's just him,' she said. 'The mood swings, I mean. I'll give you the nightmares, though. Why do you think that is?'

'I don't know,' replied Elissa as she bound the wound. 'The Grey Wardens are the most secretive order known to Thedas. My father knew the Warden-Commander in only the loosest possible sense.'

She stood up and wiped her fingers on her leggings. She looked out over the bridge that led to the tower of Ishal. From what Alistair had told her, the main battle had happened down in the gorge. She could see the evidence of battle below and she couldn't help think about what it must have felt like knowing that you would die. Cold fear trickled through her as she thought back to a time when she certain she was going to die alongside the rest of her family. Elissa turned her back on the battlefield and helped Kallian to her feet.

'Do you think we'll have to go down there?' asked Kallian. 'I don't think I want to see all those corpses.'

Elissa grimaced. 'If Alistair wants to find Cailan, then it is possible we will have to go down into the gorge,' she said as they joined the group.

'Yes,' said Alistair turning to look at her. 'Cailan was holding the front line there.'

'Why was he at the front line?' asked Kallian.

'Because he wanted to be in battle against the darkspawn,' said Alistair bitterly. 'He wanted to be remembered as the King who stopped the Blight in one big glorious battle before all it began. Now he'll be remembered for being a fool King who was betrayed his General.'

Elissa frowned. There was not really much she could say to that. Cailan had not been known for being intelligent, in fact, most the court thought the young King to be vapid and ineffectual. Queen Anora ruled behind the scenes with Cailan being the front for her decisions. Yet it didn't seem fair that a man who had tried a brave move to save his Kingdom should be remembered as a fool who was betrayed by his General. She jammed her hands into her pockets.

'We should get this over with,' said Elissa. 'Daylen seems more agitated that usual.'

The mage turned so he was facing her. 'There are more than just the dead of battle that cling to this land.'

She nodded. She could feel the death on the land and it felt older than the battle that had taken place a month ago. If the rumours about this place were true than it was the site of untold atrocities committed when the Imperium had ruled this land. 'Let's get this over with,' she repeated.

_  
__Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine, Ferelden._

'Sneaking off again?' asked Thomas Howe as he rounded the corner to face his sister. 'Father will lock you in your rooms if he finds out about that fancy man of yours. A girl of your position has no right to be flirting the filth.'

Delilah gazed at her younger brother. 'I was being fitted for a new dress in town seeing as no one will come up to the Keep and picking up on the local news,' she told him haughtily.

'The news is that the Grey Warden has been spotted near Lothering,' he said. 'With travelling companions, I am to set out before sunrise. Word is he does not travel alone.' Tom smiled dangerously. The same cold smile her father wore when something he wanted was close at hand. 'Our men are certain that he has Elissa Cousland in his entourage.'

'Theirin,' Delilah corrected deliberately. 'Elissa Theirin. You are asking for trouble Tom. You think she will come quietly or that she won't kill you on sight?'

'Her abilities are not as impressive as you seem to think,' said Thomas. 'She'll be easy to overpower.'

'Even if she is what of the others she travels with? Your abilities are not so impressive either,' said Delilah. 'If I recall correctly you were defeated by a man in nothing more than his breeches.'

As soon as she had spoken, reminding him of his humiliating defeat against the unarmed Prince, Thomas pulled back his hand and hit her with such force that her head snapped back. She cried out as she stumbled into the wall. 'You will watch your tongue, Delilah or you'll find yourself shipped off to the Marches after Nathaniel, or worse.'

Delilah looked up at him before getting back to her feet. 'I hope she kills you,' she said venomously. 'I hope she pushes the Cousland blade through your heart and watches the light go from your eyes for your greed. Elissa Theirin is too good for the likes of you.'

'And yet if she wants to live, she'll have no other choice,' said Thomas silkily as all those things he could do to her made his eyes light up in evil delight. 'I should kill you for this, but I think I'd rather watch you fall in despair as I take your friend apart piece by piece.' He spat on her before he walked away.

Delilah leant against the wall. There had to be some way of getting word to Elissa if she was alive.

_Ostagar, Ferelden._

Despite the horror of what was before him, Alistair found the presence of mind to shield Elissa from it. However, she stepped away to walk in a daze closer to the repulsive monument the darkspawn had created using Cailan's body. She brought her hands to her mouth muttering a prayer to the Maker.

'They are truly monstrous beasts with no soul,' said Wynne. 'Alistair, are you alright?'

He was looking up at his brother; stripped naked, blackening with the skin starting pull back exposing his teeth in a grotesque smile. His eyes had been pecked out by carrion crows as had other areas. 'They left him here to rot,' was all he could manage. 'We should cut him down.'

'He deserves a pyre,' said Elissa, 'and whatever honour we can afford him here.'

'We'll need to clear this place of the darkspawn first,' said Daylen. 'This place is still swarming with them.'

Alistair drew his sword with a grim set to his face before he looked up at his brother's corpse. 'Forgive me, my King,' he said quietly. 'When we have driven the darkspawn from their holes and brought ourselves some time, we shall return to see you to the Maker.'

As he turned to make his way to the other side of the bridge, Elissa grabbed him gauntleted arm. 'We'll avenge him,' she said giving him a small smile as he nodded his agreement.

He'd cut through every darkspawn he could fine and then he'd gut Loghain for this. No one deserved such humiliation and he'd see Cailan's body off as it should be before they left this place. He'd return as much of the ashes as possible to Redcliffe until they could be interred beside his mother in Denerim. There was a whistle through the air and Alistair looked up expecting to see an arrow fly over his head. Next to him, Sten caught an arrow in his arm. The Qunari glared at the wound as if it were of no more consequence than a bee sting before raising his sword, but before he could charge, Elissa had fired a shot back catching the Hurlock in the eye. It toppled over as the other Hurlock shot an arrow at her but she dived out of the way, while Daylen lifted his staff to set the Hurlock alight. The large creature roared before it toppled over the low wall of the bridge, plunging to it's death several hundred feet below.

Then more magic filled the air. Alistair turned his attention to dispel the magic wielding Genlock but before he could focus his magic crippling mana into a Smite, the Genlock used its power to reanimate the remains of soldiers that bore the heraldry of the Arling of Denerim. The Genlock turned tail as the risen advanced on them. Elissa and Leliana immediately began firing their arrows into the oncoming enemies. Alistair adjusted the grip on his sword then exchanged a glance with Sten before they both charged.

The pyre had been assembled from the remains of tents in the camp, they had taken the body down into the gorge to hide the flames and smoke as best they could from any darkspawn that might have survived the onslaught that Daylen and Alistair had led. The two men had led everyone through the Tower of Ishal exacting their revenge for the night they had been ambushed by hundreds of darkspawn on their mission to light the beacon. Elissa had taken an injury when an ogre had charged her and sent her flying into a pillar. Wynne had used her magic to heal the worse of Elissa's injuries before they moved on into the gorge where they had recovered the last of Cailan's armour. Alistair had insisted Elissa rest; her ribs and hip had shattered and she had sustained a spinal injury as well as concussion. Even with the magical healing, she'd be feeling her extensive injuries for weeks as Wynne could not heal all her injuries at the risk of leaving herself drained and defenceless. Wynne had been concerned about Elissa over exerting herself, so while the others had cut down Cailan's body and built the pyre, Elissa had begun cleaning up the armour the darkspawn had taken as trophy. It would need repairs and to be cleaned of the darkspawn rot before it could be used again. If they could get it out of Ostagar then arrangements could be made to see it to Redcliffe.

As the sun set, blood red over the battlefield, the pyre was ready and the group gathered in a semicircle around the head of the pyre. Elissa let down her hair before pulling the hood of her cloak up as she went to stand beside her husband; it was tradition for women to wear their hair lose under a hood when mourning. It was the only tradition she was able to follow, as she could not don formal mourning wear; fighting darkspawn in a dress would be difficult. Daylen lit a torch and handed it to Alistair who lit the pyre. He didn't speak as the flame caught the material that had been woven into the pyre as kindling. He set the torch down on the pyre and stepped back. Elissa wound her arm around his and squeezed his hand. They looked at each other and Elissa turned bringing her other hand up to cup his cheek. There was so much pain in his eyes.

'He was a good man,' he said hoarsely, 'who hoped too much and died too young.'

'I know,' she agreed with a sigh. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

'It really is up to us now, isn't it?' he asked her.

The last day had reinforced to Alistair, in particular, the scope of the duty that now rested on his shoulders. Elissa nodded before she turned her attention back to the pyre as Leliana began singing a traditional lay for the dead. Her voice echoed over the crackle of the fire as she sang of souls returning the side of the Maker. Elissa bowed her head and joined in, the words as much for her lost family as for Cailan. She had not mourned them properly, her constant need to move and to stay alive had not afforded her the opportunity, but this was her moment. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes for all those lost to this fight. This would not be all, she knew; there would be far more death before this war was over. Hundreds more men and women would lay down their lives in battle due to the avarice of men who saw an opportunity for power in the errors of an inexperienced king whose only thought was to protect his people. It was likely that Cailan's plan to marry Celene had helped seal his fate, any child born would cement not peace but legitimate occupation of this small but great kingdom that was seen as a backwater by the rest of Thedas. It had given Loghain motive and possibly the strength to turn his back on Cailan. There was no one in Ferelden who hated the Orlesians more than Ferelden's new regent.

_The Korcari Wilds, Ferelden_

They were all so susceptible to grief. Morrigan did not understand it, she'd dance on the grave of her mother should the chance arise but that was unlikely. Flemeth never died. No one noticed when she drifted from the pyre of the fool King who had led nearly all his men to their deaths. As she walked back to the camp they had erected, downwind from the pyre to avoid the stench of burnt human flesh, she transformed herself into her favourite form. As a crow she could fly high above the Wilds and see everything. Her change was not to accommodate the needs of her companions, but for her own needs.

As time had passed in the past few weeks, the task her mother had groomed her for had not become any easier. Were it a simple matter of enticing the Mage into her bedrolls then she could do that, but her mother wanted something more. She wanted a child of Theirin Blood with the soul of an old God. That was fine, but the fool Templar was not a Warden nor was he ever likely to stray to her bed and she didn't want him too. She circled the shack that she had called her home these past few years. They had moved around the Wilds a good few times in the twenty-six summers of her life but Flemeth's home always stuck out like a beacon to Morrigan. The powerful magic of the ancient mage radiated over the Wilds; the Wilders could sense it and they would stay away unlike the fool Templars like Alistair who would have likely blundered in to their deaths.

Morrigan had to plan this carefully, Flemeth kept the strongest wards on her grimores, but she had to understand more of what her mother asked of her. Thankfully, Flemeth had not moved on as she had said she would. Perhaps Flemeth planned to die at the hands of the darkspawn in some grand plan that Morrigan was only a single cog in. She landed on the roof of the hut and almost as soon as she did, a pulse of magic hit her that unwillingly transformed her back into her normal shape and sent her toppling to the ground.

'Back so soon?' asked Flemeth, looking down at the pitiful form of her daughter. 'Did they not want to keep you?'

'We have been forced to return to Ostagar at the whim of that fool King,' said Morrigan getting to her feet.

Flemeth chuckled. 'Do not be so dismissive of the Theirin King, he has a destiny greater than even you can see,' she said. 'Then why have you returned?'

'I do not see how to enact your plan using him' she said crossing her hands over her chest. 'He is not a Warden and now his wife is with us I do not see how I could get him to stray to my bed.'

'The Cousland scion lives?' asked Flemeth. Morrigan nodded and Flemeth smiled. 'The Couslands are strong, almost worthy of the Crown in their own right had not the Scion of the Dragon Lords arrived here. You shall have to manoeuvre him into a position that forces him to take the Joining. '

'You are hinging a lot on the basis he would survive the ritual,' pointed out Morrigan.

'He would survive,' said Flemeth.

'I do not understand,' said Morrigan.

Flemeth laughed, a cruel mocking laugh that Morrigan hated with enough passion that she could rip Flemeth's throat from her neck. 'You do not need to understand, girl,' she sneered. 'You need to do as you are told and see it through. You are to find a way to bind the soul of Urthemiel to a human form, preferably to that of the Theirin Bloodline but if you cannot manage that, the mage will do.'

'But why to that fool Templar's blood over that of the Mage? The Mage is a stronger candidate.'

'In your opinion,' pointed out Flemeth. 'Not in my opinion. Do not question what you do not understand, girl.' She looked at her daughter. 'Now be gone with you and I do not expect to see you again until this is done. Then we can put more cogs in motion.'

'As you wish, mother,' she said turning her back on Flemeth.

Morrigan took to the skies once again with a glance back once she was high in the sky. Meddling in the affairs of Archdemons and Wardens was serious magic that Morrigan didn't object to, but her mother's motives were questionable and she did not want to bind herself to the evil old bat for any longer than she needed too. She needed to get at one of the grimoires another way, and the perfect opportunity had presented itself mere weeks ago, only she had been too blind to see it. However, as she flew on the wind currents a plan began to form; a plan that would free her from her mother, possibly forever.


	14. Haunted Ground III

_I must confess, I rather enjoyed writing this chapter, it gave me a nice opportunity to explore different directions I could take various storylines. My eternal thanks to Darkly Tranquil for yet another super edit on this chapter and the wonderful additions that bring this to life when my own descriptions are a little lacklustre – it does make all the difference. _

_10th Firstfall, 9:30.__  
__Denerim, Ferelden._

Maryn looked at the grand iron gates to the city of Denerim, the bustling capital of Ferelden and seat of the Theirins with a sense of great trepidation. As he walked into the city a prickle of conscience prodded at him as it had done all the way here from Lothering. Before leaving for Ostagar, he, along with the rest of the men from Gwaren, had sworn to protect the King of Ferelden. By the word and law of King Cailan, Alistair Theirin was now the King and Maryn had turned his sword on him by order of a lesser lord who had once sworn fealty to the younger Theirin scion. Now he was going to report that man's last known whereabouts to Loghain Mac Tir. As he walked through the city, Maryn justified himself by repeatedly telling himself that Alistair Theirin was in league with the Wardens and the Wardens had killed King Cailan, thus he was as guilty as they for the King demise. That, and Loghain paid his wage, King Alistair didn't.

Maryn looked for conviction in his argument; Alistair Theirin was in league with the Wardens. It had to be so, the alternative was too terrible contemplate.

He would have an easier time of believing it if he hadn't heard Loghain give the order to retreat when the beacon was lit. It was a little later than planned, but the battle below them had not yet been lost. At first, he wondered if he should have protested, but those who did were hung as traitors on a makeshift gallows a day from Ostagar. It was worth shutting up and doing as ordered than arguing with Loghain who seemed to have descended into madness somewhere between Denerim and the night he deserted his King and Prince.

As a Gwaren man, born and bred, Maryn had seen little of the capital. It was dusty, smelly and made him wish of the fresh sea air of his hometown. Denerim smelt of rotten fish, crime and corrupt nobles. Still, he found his way to the Palace district and gave his name. He was on the list of names to expect and he was ushered into the courtyard while a runner went ahead to inform the Seneschal of his arrival. He was directed to a side door where staff and soldiers were permitted to enter. The main doors were for the use of the King and Queen, the nobles of Ferelden and royal guests.

The palace was busy with the housekeeper ordering the maids while the Seneschal directed everyone else. Some sort of change of hands was going on that made the staff skittish as they attempted to do their duties. Loghain had that effect on people, and so it seemed, did the addition of Rendon Howe now carrying the titles of Teryn of Highever, Arl of Amaranthine and Arl of Denerim. Maryn had heard rumours about Howe and his sacking of Highever. He did not like the rumours one bit, particularly as he was credited with slaying the Teryn and Teryna personally. Some of the men stationed in Gwaren had come from Highever and said the Teryn of Highever was a hard but fair taskmaster. He'd say the same of Teryn Loghain expect that the Teryn rarely visited his Terynir, holding his office from Denerim where the captain of the Gwaren troops said he was needed most.

The Seneschal spotted him. 'Maryn of Gwaren?' he inquired.

'Yes, ser,' he replied with a bow.

'No need for that,' he said. 'Please, follow me, Regent Loghain will be happy to see you now.'

Maryn wrung his hands slightly and swallowed. The words he had repeated like a mantra echoed in his head. Alistair Theirin was in league with the Wardens.

_Alistair Theirin was in league with the Wardens._

When he came face to face with Loghain that was precisely what he said in a monotone voice. When questioned further, he had explained his encounter missing out little bits of information, confirming that the Warden Daylen Amell was also present and in company of a young elf. Loghain already seemed to know these details so it seemed foolish to deny them but he missed out the others in the company of the Warden and Alistair Theirin. As he spoke and watched the Teryn of Gwaren's expression turn to one of complete, irrational hatred he knew he had to protect the others including Elissa Theirin, who the men of Highever were particularly fond of her, speaking of her as if she were their own sister. She had certainly put up a spirited fight when his men had attacked her and the new King.

It wasn't his place to question his superior, but when he saw Loghain's expression, the curl of Howe's lips and the spark in Queen Anora's eyes, Maryn couldn't have thought of any worse crime he could have committed. He had betrayed his King not once, but twice in less than a month. He was going to the Void when his time came. Loghain dismissed him with a flick of his wrist and he bowed before leaving the Regent's presence. Maryn did not get as far as the doors to the palace kitchen when he was apprehended, not by Loghain's men, or the Queen's but by Howe's. Three large burly men hooked him under the arms and dragged him back to the study where Howe operated from. Maryn had attempted to protest, telling the men that he would come quietly, but they wanted to make a show of their superior strength.

They pushed him through the doors of the study where Rendon Howe was waiting. 'Now perhaps you would like to tell me who else you encountered in Lothering?'

-…-

Queen Anora Theirin paced her chambers after the meeting with the solider. As she cut a path back and forth across the room, she twisted the wedding ring on her finger. To those that didn't know her, it could have been misinterpreted as a sign of nervousness but to anyone who knew her well, they knew it meant she was plotting. It was not ideal that Alistair had survived Ostagar, but it was workable. With Elissa dead in Highever, she would be free to make a move on the younger Theirin. If he valued his life, he would accept rather than be subjected to a traitor's death. She would keep her throne and he, his life.

Of course, it was a little distasteful; not only was he Cailan's brother and the very image of him, Alistair was a bastard with baseborn blood. However, Cailan had taken the flak for that when he legitimised him and wed him to the Cousland scion. No one could criticise a strong ruler such as she seeking to fully unite the Kingdom with her knowledge of ruling to his blood. Now it would be a matter of presenting the course of action to her father. He had never seemed over fond of the boy and had taken to vocally condemning Bryce Cousland for allowing him to sully the Cousland line by allowing Elissa to wed him. He had even gone as far as telling the late Teryn of Highever that he would have been better off binding Elissa to a more stable hand than to the bastard Prince.

However, times had changed and whether Loghain liked it or not, whether Anora liked it or not; Alistair Theirin was legitimately King with the loyalty of the Bannorn sworn to him. Cailan had sealed Alistair's position ignoring her protests to wait because the younger Theirin would not have the experience to guide Ferelden through a Blight. Cailan didn't have the experience to guide Ferelden through such a war, so what hope would the Chantry raised Bastard have?

When her father had first devised his plan, only Cailan needed to die for engaging in intimate negotiations with Celene. However, once Cailan had Alistair declared King in Waiting and the loyalty of the Bannorn sworn to him then Alistair had to go. No one would have stood behind the reluctant Bastard Prince no matter how high blooded his wife if Cailan hadn't formally crowned Alistair as his successor should he fall in battle. Loghain was sure in the right conditions, Alistair could have been convinced to retire from Ferelden with promises of the normal life he craved. Part of that convincing involved the tragic deaths of Elissa Theirin, Bryce Cousland and Eamon Guerrin.

However, Alistair was now King and with rumblings of civil war, it was likely that the Bannorn would only bow to Theirin Blood. One of the biggest factors that brought Anora to that conclusion was Alistair's popularity with the heirs of the Bannorn, the men who would lead troops in war for their fathers, would very likely rally to the young King and then it would be her receiving a traitor's death. What were they going to do about Alistair Theirin?

The door burst open without warning and her father matched into the room, an inquiring look on his face. She met his gaze evenly, immediately reading the question about to cross his lips.

'I'm going to marry him,' Anora announced.

_Southron Hills, Ferelden._

Daylen frowned in irritation at the group's slow progress since their diversion to Ostagar. Despite Wynne's regular ministrations, Elissa continued to suffer the after effects of her encounter with the ogre, and her inability to keep pace combined with Alistair's fretfulness about his wife's health caused Daylen no small amount of frustration. As Daylen had anticipated, Alistair's attention was entirely focussed on caring for Elissa, which meant he wasn't as watchful as he could have been when it came to darkspawn. While he had expected Alistair and Kallian to fuss over her, he had not expected the rest of the group to fawn over her to quite the extent that they were; he supposed he could even see why Leliana and Wynne were doing it, but he couldn't understand why she was so popular with the lot of them. Not only had she hit him, she had also threatened to gut him. Now, she was injured, taking up everyone's time and somehow he was the bad guy?

Given her diminutive stature and almost complete lack of anything vaguely akin to proper armour, it was little wonder that she was severely hurt after being tossed like a ragdoll into a pillar. Technically, it was her own fault. Yet, in spite of his low expectations, she had fought valiantly and she had not complained about her assigned duties in camp, the meagre food or the hard ground on which they had to sleep. In fact, out of Elissa and Alistair, he thought it more likely that he get on with a noble who had admitted to knowing about Apostates being hidden from the Circle than the fully trained Templar who was now King. He sighed to himself, Kallian's words at Redcliffe echoed back to him. He really was being an ass.

Daylen stopped and turned. 'Do you want me to take over, Wynne?'

The elder mage had spent a significant amount of time and energy working on the young queen in an effort to accelerate her recovery and would, by Daylen's reckoning, be reaching her absolute limit; mages only had a limited amount of mana, even the most powerful mages could not go on indefinitely. While he was no spirit healer, he did have some skill in that area. He had learnt in a desperate bid to restore his vision, and while the skills he learned had failed to return his sight, they had proved extremely useful now that he was finding himself flying from battle to battle with little opportunity to recuperate in between.

'You've been pouring that magic into Elissa for days, you must be weary,' he continued when he sensed Wynne's dubiousness.

Although they tried to hide it, Daylen could sense the dubiousness and uncertainty in how they looked at him. They probably all thought he would find some nefarious means to kill Elissa, he reflected bitterly. Somehow, he had become an object of suspicion in a group he was supposed to be leading. While he might have found Elissa's presence a nuisance that he could have done without, even he was not stupid enough to attempt regicide, especially when there was a Templar standing right there no doubt glaring daggers at him. But, for reasons he could not entirely explain, even to himself, there was something about Elissa's presence in the group that rankled him, making him unnecessarily terse when dealing with her. Dalyen sighed internally, his attitude to the young queen had seriously damaged the relationship he had built with Alistair, a relationship that he was going to need if they were to have any hope of defeating the Blight. A peace offering on his part might go a long way to mending damaged fences.

'I was not aware you had healing abilities, Daylen,' said Wynne, her voice tinged with wariness and no small amount of disbelief that he would willingly offer his assistance to Elissa.

'I learnt when I was trying to restore my sight,' he admitted. 'Wynne, you had barely recovered from your ordeals in the tower when we set out from Redcliffe and you've been healing her for days.'

'It is the Queen's decision,' said Wynne, the tone of her voice was not lost on Daylen.

Daylen turned to Elissa. 'It will require me touching you,' he said, 'so if we can put aside our deal where I touch you and you kill me for a few days then it would be helpful.'

'You are right about Wynne,' she agreed, her voice a little tight with suspicion. 'But we have an accord, Daylen.'

He nodded. 'We'll make camp shortly, Morrigan mentioned a fresh water steam nearby and we should be there within the hour.'

-…-

'Why are you doing this?'

Daylen looked up at Alistair's challenge. 'Because Wynne needs to rest and Elissa needs to be healed,' he replied simply. 'You know as well as I do that Wynne cannot sustain the healing magic she is using on Elissa. She was too badly injured in the tower of Ishal and it would be unwise for Wynne to fully heal Elissa while we are in the Blighted Lands as it will drain her. If we came under attack Wynne would not be able to protect herself.'

Alistair frowned and jammed his hands into the pockets of his breeches. He had removed his armour before coming to speak to Daylen as he was getting weary of its weight. 'But you don't like Elissa,' he pointed out.

Daylen remained silent as he stood up, speaking only once he had dusted his robes off. 'Regardless, we all need to stick together. I have the ability to help her and she is allowing me to.'

'If you hurt her,' said Alistair darkly.

Daylen waved his hand dismissively in reaction to Alistair's threat. 'You'll drain me and slice me open so quickly that I won't know what hit me? Believe me, I know,' he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 'Once we're out of the Blighted Lands we'll need to find somewhere we can rest for a few days to let both of them get well enough for the trials ahead.'

'Do we have time for that?'

'No,' said Daylen, 'but we don't have a choice. Elissa is a good markswoman and hunter and Wynne is the best spirit healer I know.'

Alistair smirked. 'Are you saying we need Elissa?'

'Is it that much of a shock to you?' asked Daylen before heading over to where Elissa was now resting.

Elissa had watched Alistair speak with Daylen before the mage headed over. She was grateful he couldn't see her watching and scrutinising his every move. She wasn't the only one, Kallian sat beside her ready to strike should the need arise. Elissa wasn't sure why everyone had suddenly rallied around her as if she were a precious piece of glass. While her injuries were extensive, she could feel them after all, she understood why she couldn't be fully healed immediately, besides there were injuries that just took time no matter how much magic was poured into them. She was just glad not to be dying in some run down hut with her apostate aunt and Kallian as the only company. Daylen knelt down beside her, while Kallian sat on her other side glaring at him suspiciously. Elissa looked around at the camp, even Morrigan was watching this, and she felt completely exposed. He smiled at her, a tight expression that told her that he was well aware that everyone was watching. Of all of them, it was Alistair who glowered most fiercely as he watched the mage work.

Daylen channelled his mana inward, chanting a healing spell that would hopefully help Elissa until they got to the nearest village with shelter. Daylen placed his hands on her abdomen, focusing on the internal injuries of her muscles and ligaments. The quicker they were knitted together, the quicker she would heal. Blue light enveloped her before he sat back, more drained than he intended to be. He grabbed a Lyrium potion from his robes and knocked it back.

'Don't you become addicted?' Elissa asked as he put down the bottle. 'Alistair said that Templars become addicted.'

'That's because Templars don't have a natural connection to the Fade so they need other ways to summon their magic destroying mana,' said Daylen, finishing the potion. 'Although, if Alistair is anything to go by…' he trailed off in thought. 'It seems it's more a method to control than to give them greater powers given that Alistair is quiet capable without Lyrium,' he mused to Elissa.

'It does appear that way,' she said leaning back. 'Thank you.'

He could actually hear the smile in her voice. 'You are welcome,' he said as he stood. He was assailed by fatigue as he regained his feet causing him to wobble momentarily before recovering. The healing spell had taken far more out of him then he anticipated.

Kallian jumped up from Elissa's side and grabbed the mage. 'You've done too much,' the elf told him, forcing him back down. 'Do you need another one of those potions?'

He shook his head. 'I need to lie down,' he told Kallian.

Surprisingly strong for an elf whose primary job before the Blight was a handmaiden, the girl pulled him up and guided him to his tent. As she did, Wynne walked over to Elissa frowning at the young woman. She rubbed her hands then placed them in the same place Daylen had put his before looking Elissa in the eye.

'No wonder he's drained,' she said, 'he's healed most of your soft tissue damage. You should be able to spend most of tomorrow in relatively little pain.'

Elissa raised her eyebrows. 'Do you think he meant to heal so much?'

Wynne shook her head. 'He isn't able to exert as much control as I over his healing abilities as they are not a natural talent of his,' she explained to the young Queen of Ferelden. 'But you should rest again tonight.'

'What about Daylen?' asked Elissa, looking in concern after the mage still being guided by Kallian.

'I'll give him some more Lyrium later once he's slept.'

_South Reach, Ferelden.__  
_  
Leonas Bryland, Arl of South Reach, sat in his study as the fire died down in the grate. These were dark days. He had known they were coming; the regular groups of refugees from the southern bannorn that had been passing through his fiefdom since early August had presaged King Cailan's summons to Denerim to deliver the ominous news that the Darkspawn activity in the south was more than a mere raid. The stream of lost souls was constant now; he'd seen his fair share of widows and orphans to know that the darkspawn were marching closer and closer. However, shadows in the halls of Denerim had struck leaving the Kingdom in tatters before the darkspawn arrived. When he had received word that the entire Cousland family had been slaughtered by Howe he had raged at the loss, cursing so fiercely that his usually stoic wife had scurried off until he had regained his composure.

For years, he had warned Bryce Cousland of the true nature of Rendon Howe; a greedy, ambitous man who sought his friends only in the highest places. During the reign of King Maric, Howe had ingratiated himself with the king; when Bryce appeared to be in the ascendency following the death of Maric, Howe maneuverer himself into the Cousland patriarch's confidence; and when Loghain mustered support before the battle at Ostagar, Howe could be found in the shadows of Loghain's presence.

Then the worst had happened; Loghain had quit the field, leaving the King and his heir presumptive to die. Both the Theirins were acknowledged as dead, even though only Cailan had been confirmed killed; Alistair was presumed to have likewise been slain by the darkspawn as they continued their relentless march north. Given that the Darkspawn were advancing inexorably and Ferelden was too divided and mired in chaos to mount an effective resistance, it was unlikely that anyone would ever recover the bodies to honour them as the brave warriors they had been. Leonas slumped in his chair, staring into the embers trying to decide what to do. He was caught between the practical necessities of national unity in the face of an existential threat, and his principles and loyalty to the crown he had loyally served his entire life. Loghain had appointed himself to the position of Regent but he could not support a man who left his King and Prince to die on the battlefield. The other option was Arl Eamon, but word was he was deathly ill in Redcliffe. South Reach knights had brought the news after encountering the Redcliffe men on their patrols. Leonas supposed that Teagan would never take the mantle unless forced despite being an excellent politician.

There was a soft knock on the door and without looking up he called for his guest to enter. His fifteen year old daughter walked in holding a note for him. 'This arrived for you papa,' she said holding it out to him.

Habren shook as she waited for him to take it. She had received a particularly harsh tongue-lashing from him earlier in the day when she had complained that the refugees were clogging up the place with their filth. Like every father in the Bannorn he had hoped to raise the next bright spark in the Ferelden court known for her intelligence and wit, instead he had sired an insolent, selfish child with no thoughts beyond fashions and her own comfort. Most concerning of all were the fates of the Marbari pups that had bonded to her throughout the year, Maker only knew what she did with them but rumour circulated that she had two of the drowned. If he could prove her behaviour then she would be straight into the Chantry; he rather have no heir than an self-indulgent child. The Maker knew Ferelden had enough of them within the ranks of the heirs of the Bannorn. He took the letter from Habren with a smile for his daughter. It might be better to sit her down to try and get through to her before resorting to the Chantry if the time would allow it with that was to come.

He looked at the note; the seal bore the insignia of Amaranthine. 'Thank you, Habren,' he said quietly dismissing her as he turned over the envelope to see an elegant looping script that spoke of a feminine hand, rather than that of Rendon Howe.

Curiosity piqued, he resisted his initial inclination to throw the missive into the fire. Instead, he broke the seal and was surprised to find that the letter was from Lady Delilah Howe. He sat back down and read the short note by the light of a candle. Shocked at the words there, he reread the letter to ensure that he understood it correctly. Leonas rubbed his temples before getting to his feet. From what he knew of her, Delilah Howe was a decent, sensible girl much like her mother and bearing little similarity to her deceitful father. If her message was to be believed, he knew he would have to act quickly. As Delilah had advised, he threw the letter in the fire, watching it curl and burn before calling his trusted Seneschal.

'If this Warden that Loghain has issued a warrant against is seen here, would you have him and his party escorted here immediately?' he ordered the man, 'and keep watch for Thomas Howe, if he enters South Reach I want to know where he goes and what he does, is that clear?'

Seneschal Robert nodded. 'As you wish, my Lord,' he said rushing off to give the orders.

'And that's escorted, Robert, not apprehended. They are our guests while they are here.'


	15. Haunted Ground IV

_The first thing I'm going to remind you of is the 'M' rating I gave this fic. This chapter is NSFW at all! Also, hello to my new subscribers, I'm glad you are enjoying the fic enough that you've clicked to get notifications of my updates. Happy to have you along. Also thanks to my silent readers, seriously, seeing my stats on here for this fic do help keep it going but feel free to review if there is anything you like or even don't like – we writers do like a bit of cross pollination for time to time. Happy to hear from everyone. My final thanks to Darkly Tranquil for yet more awesome editing and rewrites of sections that were at best lacklustre but usually a bit crap. _

_11th Firstfall, 9:30  
Southron Hills, Ferelden. _

Elissa woke in the comfort of Alistair's protective embrace to discover that for the first time for days she was reasonably free of pain or major discomfort. The day before had been torture for her, so she was grateful to be able to move comfortably under her own steam. Being so badly injured had hardened her resolve to retrieve her armour from the Cousland Vault in Denerim. She would not have been so badly injured if she had been wearing the medium weight Silverite armour her father had commissioned as a wedding gift for her. When her father had informed her of the commissioning of the armour, she had questioned him as to why he thought such a gift necessary; he had solemnly told her that with each passing day the whispers of a Blight grew louder and louder and it imperative that preparations be made for her protection. Bryce Cousland wanted his daughter ready for whatever the future was to bring. She had attended a final fitting for the set before she left Denerim for Highever leaving orders for it to be stored in the family vault. While she was to be left in charge of Highever, she knew it would not be long before her return to Denerim for the Satinalia celebrations by which time it would have been ready. It would be heavier than the light drakeskin reinforced gear she was wearing now but it would be preferable to sustaining another serious injury. Another one and she would probably have to retire back to Redcliffe, an idea she did not relish.

Elissa turned a little and looked at her husband. She did not think she could stand to wait in Redcliffe for months on end waiting for sporadic news of whether he was alive or dead. There was too much at stake for her to leave him and at the forefront of her mind was what Ferelden would do if he died without an heir in her belly. They had not been intimate since leaving Redcliffe – the schedule of alternate watches, her monthly course that she disguised as a reticence at being overheard and then her injuries had scuppered every chance they had. Elissa was acutely aware that above all else, her duty was to provide Ferelden with an heir; she could not fail as Anora had done. Yet a little voice of doubt tugged at her reminding her of the injury she had sustained in Highever – it had been bad enough to induce a miscarriage. Fae had looked at her with such sadness as she told Elissa of the babe she had wrapped in clothe and buried under a Birch tree. Elissa had used what little strength she had at the time to stand at the tree and mourn her new loss; just one more thing to bring Arl Howe to account for. She looked at her husband; relaxed in sleep and untroubled by the pain she had borne in those dark days as she recovered. Fae had told her she would likely conceive again as the miscarriage was not caused directly by the injury but the stress it caused on the rest of her body. When Kallian had finally dragged her battered body into the apostate healer's home, she had been semi-conscious as her body began to shut down from shock and blood loss. It had taken all of the healer's skills and the expenditure of all her mana reserves to save the life on the last Cousland. Unfortunately, it had been beyond the healer's considerable skill to save the life of her child she had not even known had been growing within her.

With that in mind, Elissa set to work on a plan of action to coax her husband awake and demonstrate she was well enough to resume her wifely duties. She extracted herself from his embrace, careful not to wake him she moved to look out and see who was on watch to ascertain whether they could get away with it if they were quiet. Unfortunately, Leliana looked up smiling when she saw her.

'You're awake,' Leliana cried exuberantly.

Elissa cursed inwardly and with a groan that had nothing to do with the pain she had been feeling, she crawled from the tent.

'Oh you poor dear,' she said coming over to help Elissa to her feet. 'I thought Wynne said you would be much better today.'

'I am,' said Elissa, 'but a bit achy. Hard ground, extensive injuries, husband taking up all the room in the tent.' She smiled at the Chantry Sister. 'I was going to get a few shots off before everyone woke up.'

Leliana gave her an appraising look. 'Your idea of fun?' she enquired pleasantly but Elissa did not miss her eyes slid to the tent she had just exited.

'Not until you spotted me,' she replied flipping her hair over her shoulder.

'You should not mind me,' laughed Leliana.

Elissa smiled tightly, a little embarrassed at such a thing being laid bare by someone she barely knew, no matter how cautiously she liked her. 'I should get on with practicing,' she said not meeting the gaze of the Chantry Sister.

There was a difference between knowing and knowing when it came to such things and Elissa didn't want Leliana or anyone knowing. She had a position to up hold and she didn't think it very Queenly to announce that she planned to seduce her husband every night and morning until he got her with child. She snatched up her bow and with another tight smile for the woman she walked to the edge of the camp with Cassius at her heels.

-…-

With Daylen significantly drained, the paced remained as slow as it had been while Elissa had been injured but his actions had seemingly endeared him with the majority of the group and they did not complain at the continuing slow progress. It rankled at him though; he had wanted to speed their progress up by healing her. Time was running out not to mention it did not do to be travelling so slowly in such cold conditions but it seemed they would be doomed to do so. Wynne had offered to help the struggling Warden but he refused pointing out that it rather defeated the object of him assisting in healing Elissa. Thankfully, Daylen did not have to lead as Alistair used Maric's sword as an indicator as to whether they were in immediate danger from the darkspawn while Morrigan scouted high above in the shape of a crow.

The shape shifting abilities of the swamp witch put nearly everyone on edge, barring Elissa who seemed fascinated by the skills of Morrigan and by the tale of her mother, the fabled Flemeth, Witch of the Wilds. Daylen and Alistair agreed that they would have expected Elissa to use more caution around the witch; Morrigan was a Wilder and an Apostate and the bells of concern hadn't stopped ringing for Daylen and Alistair. However, Elissa had stated that she could not bring herself to be afraid of Morrigan when they were running from darkspawn and friends turned foe. She had also reasonably pointed out that they were in the company of a Templar who seemed to be constantly fighting the urge to drain Morrigan as a matter of principal. It was hard to argue with her logic and Daylen privately marvelled at what had given the Noble born girl such a core of common sense when it came to magic. He was surprised, since their truce was barely a day old, when she told him that her father was the first member in the Cousland line to be born without magic since the end of the Storm Age. To distract them from the biting cold, Elissa had launched into a telling of the legend of Flemeth and the slaying of Conobar Elstan. She went on to explain the subsequent ascension of her ancestor Sarim Cousland to the position of Bann, and its eventual elevation to a Terynir under Haelis and Mather Cousland in the Black Age, following the legendary war against the werewolves. Several members of her family had speculated that the magic that often appeared in the Cousland line could be traced back to when Haelis Cousland was attacked by a werewolf while she had been with child.

Alistair had listened intently; as both a trained Templar and King of Ferelden, he was surprised the Couslands had managed to keep such an extensive line of magic secret for the entirety of their rule over Highever. A thought suddenly came to him. 'Was Teryna Elethea a mage?'

Elissa smiled and shook her head. 'No she was not,' she said, 'but it doesn't change the fact that Calenhad the Great cheated in his battle against my ancestor as he was using enchanted armour and weapons.'

As the whole group chuckled at the cheerful banter that erupted between the royal couple on the on the subject of their forebears' famous rivalry, Morrigan swooped down, barely landing before she assumed her natural human form. 'Get down,' she barked.

Elissa looked to the sword in Alistair's hand. It was not blazing white but she dare not disobey the harsh tone of voice that Morrigan used. She grabbed Alistair and pulled him into the undergrowth just as a great shadow crossed the sky. She looked up and gasped in surprise, turning to look at Kallian who raised her eyebrows. A High Dragon had not been seen in Ferelden since the end of the Blessed Age when it rampaged the Frostback Mountains; a sight, it was said, that not only motivated Loghain Mac Tir to victory at River Dane but also inspired the name of the current Age.

'Maybe that old drunk was right,' Kallian mused as they watched the dragon's silhouette dwindle into the distant southern skies after they had emerged from their hiding places.

Alistair looked at the two women. 'There were rumours of a dragon?' he asked, his voice high pitched from the incredulity of the whole situation.

'In Lothering,' said Elissa. 'The old man through it an Archdemon. According to the story, it landed atop the Tower of Ishal towards the end of the battle.'

Alistair went a little pale and looked at Daylen.

'That was no Archdemon,' said Daylen, his unseeing eyes looking up to where the Dragon had flew over. 'The Archdemon is still in the Deep Roads, far to the south.'

'But what about at Ostagar?' asked Alistair.

Daylen shook his head. 'The Archdemon has yet to show itself at all. It will not do so until it is ready.'

Given how cagey the mage tended to be about any matters relating to the Archdemon, everyone looked at him in surprise at his voluntary revelation of this detail, before Alistair spoke. 'I suppose we can be grateful of small mercies,' he said, turning his eyes skyward again. Then he looked at Morrigan, whose face had taken on a pallor even more ashen than her usual porcelain complexion. 'Thank you,' he said to the witch, 'I'm sure none of us desired to be dragon toast today.'

-…-

In comparison to the excitement of the morning, the rest of the day's walk dragged along slowly with little to remark upon, unless they wanted to bring up the dragon again. Morrigan had not taken to the skies again, and no one could blame her. If the dragon made an appearance again, then her crow form could do nothing to defend against such a creature. Elissa mostly walked beside Alistair occasionally exchanging small talk until Leliana engaged her in excited conversation about what the dragon could portend. Kallian drily informed the Chantry Sister that they were in the Dragon Age for a reason, but Elissa wondered if there were more to it than that. They seemed to be living in strange times and no one cared what the omens could mean.

It was just after midday, when a haggard looking woman in peasant's garb came running down the road. The group halted, moving closer together as they readied their weapons for a potential attack. Bandits had ambushed them on the way to Lothering so they were not taking any chances particularly as they got closer to the King's Road. This particular pathway led to several large farmsteads that would bring refugees with plenty of coin and belongings for unscrupulous criminals to pillage

'Please,' begged the woman her frantic eyes sweeping over all of them, 'we've been ambushed, by darkspawn.'

She barely waited for a response before she ran off in the direction she had come. Leliana huffed and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the woman depart. Elissa dug her hands into the pockets of her leather coat and exchanged a pointed look with Alistair who in turn glanced at his sword. The Silverite runes had not given any indication of the presence of Darkspawn and they all settled on the same conclusion; for someone who was claiming to have been ambushed by darkspawn, she looked very much alive. Had there been an actual darkspawn attack, the chances of her escaping the slaughter were vanishingly small. It left only one other possible explanation for her sudden appearance; a trap.

'You think we can go back or is this the only road back to the Kings Road?' Leliana speculated.

'Not without adding days to our journey,' replied Morrigan, 'or running into the edge of the Horde. But surely they can be dealt with? They are but bandits, and we have faced their sort before.'

'I was rather hoping to avoid all the slaughter and death for another day or so,' replied Elissa, stretching her newly healed body before unslinging her bow from over her shoulder. 'Daylen should hang back as much as possible and let us do the work.'

Rather reluctantly, the battle mage agreed to hold back as the others readied themselves with reassuring nods as they altered their formation to protect the drained mage by closing in around him as they moved forward.

Unfortunately, it was not a simple matter of a bandit ambush. These men and women were trained killers and had set a rather elaborate trap, indicating that they had been waiting for them and most likely tracking them since leaving Ostagar. As Elissa picked off one of the archers on a rocky outcrop, she spoke to Leliana as she nocked another arrow. 'Think I'd have gone for the days added to the journey option.'

'They are not simple bandits,' Leliana agreed as the blonde haired elf who had been giving the orders shot out from nowhere and collided with Elissa.

Unprepared for the sudden assault Elissa was bowled over as Leliana shrieked in surprise. Her bow gone from her hand and her arrows scattered, Elissa was at a serious disadvantage. The assassin pinned her to the ground leaving her with no way to get to the weapons strapped to her waist or the dagger concealed in her boot. As the assassin poised to strike, angling his dagger to bring it down on her throat he paused, looking down at her with surprise and then recognition. A moment's hesitation was long enough for Elissa to act; twisting under him to pull her dagger free and with surprising display of strength borne from the need to survive she managed to hit the assassin square in the jaw with the hilt, just as Alistair slammed his shield into the side of the assassin's head. The elf went limp, eyes crossing as he slumped into her body his face landing squarely in her bosom. Elissa stared at the absurdity of the situation until Alistair kicked the limp body of the elf off her. As she got to her feet, Alistair raised his blade to strike a killing blow.

'No, wait,' she said, slightly breathless from the encounter.

Alistair halted mid-swing and turned to look askance at her.

'I think I recognise him,' she explained as the last of the enemy resistance succumbed to their superior capabilities. 'He recognised me. We should question him; at least find out who he was working for and who he was charged with killing.'

'I'd say that was pretty obvious,' he said looking at her pointedly.

Elissa frowned. 'I'm not so sure,' she said. 'He could have been sent to kill Daylen after Howe's men saw him near Redcliffe. It isn't an unreasonable stretch.'

'If that were the case, why did he go for you?' asked Alistair.

'I was covering Daylen, he'd have had to go through me to get to him,' she explained. Daylen nodded to confirm that she had been protecting the Grey Warden with her arrows.

'And who do you think he is?'

'An Antivan Crow, by the name of Zevran Arainai. He is one of Claudio Valisti men,' she explained to her husband.

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating her information. 'Prince Claudio Valisti as in Oriana's brother?' he asked and Elissa nodded. 'Oriana's family are Crows?'

'That particular rumour didn't spring from nowhere,' Elissa replied with a wry smile. 'Why do you think she usually accompanied me as chaperone before our betrothal?'

Alistair was watching her surprised as another titbit of information regarding the Couslands was laid bare. He had heard the rumour relating to Lady Oriana and the fear of the sons of the Bannorn that if they so much as miss stepped in their treatment of Elissa, Oriana would call a murder of Crows upon them. The fearsome reputation of her in-laws was such that it provided Elissa a degree of freedom from pursuit by her ever-eager would-be suitors as long as her sister-in-law was nearby. Ironically enough, it had been on one of the rare occasions that Elissa was not in the company of Oriana that had led to their first meeting. Had Elissa been in the company of Oriana in the rose garden that morning, Thomas Howe would not have acted in the boorish manner he had and they might never have met before Cailan had put the marriage arrangement in place. The Maker only knew how she might have reacted to their betrothal had they not encountered each other beforehand. He doubted their relationship would have slotted so easily into place had he just been presented to her mere days after Cailan legitimised him as the Prince of Ferelden.

'Would she have called the Crows if anything untoward happened?' Alistair asked her as she searched the elf, pulling out a token from beneath his tunic.

'Perhaps if it had involved forced engagement to either Thomas Howe or Vaughan Kendells,' she said with a grimace as she turned over the token, recognising the insignia of the house of Valisti. 'I think we should question him. The Valisti Cell has sworn loyalty to the Couslands as we are considered family although, with Oriana dead, I do not know if that will hold.'

'I agree with Elissa,' said Daylen as he joined the young Monarchs. 'We should at least know who is pulling the strings.'

'Tie him up then, and Sten, if you could carry him?' asked Alistair. 'We'll question him when he wakes.'

The Qunari grunted his disapproval as he had already been tasked with carrying Cailan's heavy armour but still moved to pick up the unconscious elf.

-…-

_Bannorn of the Waking Sea, Ferelden._

The ancestral home of the Bann of Waking Sea sat overlooking the body of water that gave the holding its name. The cold, grey waters of the sea were flat and still this day, as if in contemplation of some impending bout of violent action. Having grown up in Amaranthine, Delilah was familiar with the unpredictable and capricious nature of the sea, and knew that it could turn from placid to tempestuous in no time at all, much like the woman she was coming to see. As she approached the large homey looking manor house, with its solid bluestone walls and wooden shuttered windows, she wondered if she would get a chance to speak with Alfstanna before being run out of her demesne. No doubt the Bann had heard what had taken place at Highever Castle and would be aggrieved to say the least; as cousin to the Cousland siblings through her father and their mother, Alfstanna had grown up around the Couslands as much as Delilah had. That Alfstanna had been Elissa's other maid-in-waiting for her wedding on Summersday, was a further testament to the closeness of the kinship she shared with her cousin. As a result, it was with some trepidation that Delilah approached the house.

Cautiously, she dismounted in the courtyard to the moderately sized house as the doors opened. Alfstanna was a shrewd woman who looked at Delilah with hostile eyes. For Elissa's sake, Delilah could not allow herself to be deterred. As a ruling Bann, Alfstanna's station was higher than Delilah's and as such she curtseyed to the Bann.

'Will you hear me out?' she asked Alfstanna when the older woman did not deign to speak first.

Alfstanna narrowed her eyes on Delilah but her expression softened as Delilah removed her hood revealing a dark, heavy bruise from her brother's assault. She'd been in pain as she travelled to the Bannorn but if Elissa was captured by Thomas then Delilah would need to find a safe place for Elissa to go and she had no doubt that Alfstanna would protect her younger cousin.

'I have reason to believe Elissa Theirin to be alive,' she said without preamble.

'Is this some trickery?' the Bann demanded. 'If so, it is in poor taste given your father's role in slaughtering my kin!'

Delilah held up her hands in surrender. 'I swear on the grave of my mother and life of Nathaniel that this is no trick. Elissa lives, and she will need your help if Thomas gets anywhere near her.'

'You had best come in,' replied Alfstanna, her eyes scanning her surroundings as if concerned that Delilah had brought her father's men. 'I'll have refreshments brought out to the solar. Do you need anything for your eye?'

Delilah shook her head as she followed her former friend into her home, grateful not to have been slain on slight by the clearly angry Bann.

Alfstanna listened without comment as Delilah relayed the latest news from her last days at Vigil's Keep. She told of her father's initial anger and then glee at the news that Elissa had reportedly escaped from Highever during the siege and subsequent appearance in the company of the Grey Warden being hunted by Loghain. From there, she went on explain her father and brother's plans for the widowed princess; with her royal husband presumed dead or soon-to-be, Elissa could be used to legitimise the dominion of the Howes over Highever by marrying her to Thomas and getting her with child.

The Bann of Waking Sea took a sip of her wine and stared into the fire as she pondered the depths of the conspiracy they were now facing. What was afoot was nothing short of what the Orlesians would call a _coup d'état_; an attempt to utterly usurp the established political hierarchy through murder and intimidation, and in the midst of a Blight, no less. In considering the reality of their situation, Alfstanna could not help but be bitterly amused by the irony of Loghain MacTir being involved in something so utterly Orlesian. Dragging herself from her grim thoughts, Alfstanna said, 'I will assist in any way I can, but I fear this will be the first place your father looks.'

'I had thought of that,' she said, 'but he might not, he might think she would flee to a more senior noble, Arl Bryland or Bann Teagan if Eamon dies.'

'So the rumours from Redcliffe are true?' asked Alfstanna. 'Eamon is dying. I presume that is your father's work also. Does he plan to simply murder all those he cannot bully into submission?"

Delilah sighed heavily. 'It has been implied that Eamon's situation is more Loghain's doing than my father.'

'Surely not,' replied Alfstanna. 'He would not presume to do such a thing.'

'He left King Cailan and Prince Alistair on the battlefield at Ostagar, who knows what else he would do,' Delilah pointed out. 'My father all but confirmed it was not the Warden's that led them to their deaths.'

'By the Maker,' muttered Alfstanna rubbing her temples in distress. 'Thank you Delilah, for bringing this to me. I will do what I can for my cousin should she need it. Have you contacted anyone else?'

'I sent word to Leonas Bryland in South Reach,' replied Delilah. 'I do not know if it will reach him time, but I arranged for swift travel through the Chantry's messenger. It cannot be traced back to me as I did not hand over the note nor paid the coin.'

'The one who did?'

'Would not betray me,' she said with assurance. Albert knew the whole sordid affair and although fearful of the repercussions he was willing to help her.

Bann Alfstanna nodded her head. 'I hope that is so for your sake, Lady Delilah,' she said grimly, 'now, will you join me for dinner and head back tomorrow, there is not much light left.'

-…-  
_Southron Hills, Ferelden_

Morrigan had taken to the skies after the ambush and led the group to an abandoned farmstead to seek shelter for the night. Their altered course had taken them deeper into the Hills and closer to the forest than the road to South Reach and hopefully further from any other pursuers on their trail. Now out of the Blighted Lands, Elissa had ventured off to kill some fresh meat. The three hares she had tracked with the aid of Cassius were hardly a hog roast but it was an improvement on the dried meat rations they had been eating since Lothering. A cursory search of the farmstead made it clear that whoever had lived there had left in a great hurry, judging by the chaotic state of the home and the household goods that had been left behind. The group set a fire under a large roasting spit in the hearth and after preparing the hares for cooking, they left Sten turning the spit and Leliana preparing the other vegetables while Alistair, Elissa, Daylen, and Kallian then turned their attention to interrogating their comatose prisoner.

Elissa frowned at the elf. 'Do you think we killed him?'

'No,' said Kallian, 'he's breathing. See?' She pointed as his chest, which was rising and falling.

Elissa grabbed the slumbering assassin's shoulders and gave him a shake. 'Come on sleepy head, time for a chat.'

'I keep having visions of falling into a magnificent bosom,' said the elf in a thick Antivan accent that was heavy with concussion. His eyes opened slightly unfocused thanks to Alistair's powerful blow to his head.

Daylen muttered an incantation under his breath and the elf's eyes immediately regained their focus as he looked at Elissa. 'I thought I was dreaming, seeing you here Lady Cousland,' he groaned. 'But then I rather thought I would wake up dead.'

'That could be easily arranged,' muttered Alistair, earning a silencing glance from Elissa.

'Of that I don't doubt,' said Zevran looking over the small group surrounding him. 'As you haven't killed me, might I ask as to why you have left me alive?'

'I didn't think it prudent to kill Claudio's man without knowing who hired you to kill whom,' explained Elissa. 'We have rather a few wanted people among our number.'

Zevran looked at the group again, from Elissa, to Alistair, Daylen and Kallian, then beyond them to the others in the room. 'So it would seem I seriously under estimated you all.' He turned back to Elissa. 'I did not expect to find you with this group; rumours of your tragic demise run rife throughout Denerim. Although, your skill is much improved since last we met, Lady Cousland. Did that handsome archer marry you and break you in?'

Elissa felt the heat rise on her cheeks at the memories her teen years brought forth. Zevran was trying to wrong foot her with things from her past that he knew on account of being in Claudo Valisti's entourage when Oriana had married Fergus seven years earlier. 'No,' she said, biting down on her lip. 'He wasn't all that interested in me.'

'He hid it well, that is for sure, but his eyes used to track you like a hawk,' replied Zevran. 'But I have offended the modest Lady Cousland. Well, let me get to the point, I was hired by Rendon Howe and Loghain Mac Tir to dispatch this fellow here.' He pointed at Daylen, who look faintly amused that they would go to such lengths for the sake of one novice Grey Warden. 'I can see why they called in the professionals.'

'I hope he paid a decent price,' said Elissa, 'I wouldn't want them to thinking Daylen is cheap and easy.'

'Rather a lot, so I understand it.'

'Are you loyal to Loghain and Howe?' asked Alistair.

'No,' replied Zevran. 'My cell dictated that I be loyal to the Crows, Valisti and the Couslands of Ferelden by extension. As such, in this case, I am now at the mercy of the fair Lady Cousland. Not a bad position if I do say so myself.'

Alistair muttered something under his breath and stood up.

'Have I offended him?' asked Zevran, smirking as he realised he had hit a bit of a sore spot.

'It might be best not to push his patience,' said Elissa pointedly.

Zevran chuckled as he looked between them. 'The archer was a far better catch, his mysterious brooding presence was far more exciting than this one,' said Zevran. 'If you are done with the questions, I have an offer for you.'

'I'm listening,' said Elissa.

'My situation is complicated, I was not contracted to kill you but the Warden. I assume you can declare him under your protection?' asked Zevran and Elissa nodded her agreement. 'But that still makes my life forfeit and I like living, and you are the sort of people to give the Crows pause, so I propose that I serve you.'

'Do you think I am royally stupid?' asked Elissa incredulously crossing her arms over her chest.

'I think you are royally hard to kill, and utterly gorgeous.'

Alistair clicked his tongue in annoyance as he glared daggers at the Crow for his continual flirting with Elissa as she questioned him.

'Oh this is too easy,' chuckled Zevran.

'You are awfully glib for a man bound in rope with several heavily armed people standing over you,' observed Kallian drily.

'What can I say, it is my way,' the assassin replied with an insouciant shrug. He turned his attention back to Elissa. 'Do we have an accord? The vows of my cell allows me to swear my loyalty to you by the agreement made by your father and Prince Valisti when the _Princesa_Oriana married your brother.'

Elissa swallowed. 'Oriana is dead,' she replied. 'Murdered at the order of Arl Rendon Howe, your current employer. My brother is also dead by way of betrayal of Teryn Loghain Mac Tir, your other employer.'

'_Cabrón_,' he muttered darkly. 'Then it is also my duty to act against Howe and Loghain, I would not have taken this assignment had I realised. For that, I apologise and wish that you will allow me to serve you Lady Cousland.'

'Queen Elissa Theirin,' Alistair finally corrected clearly having taken as much of Zevran's behaviour as he was going to.

'Alistair,' hissed Elissa.

'Queen Elissa,' said Zevran smiling like the cat that had gotten the cream as he returned his gaze to Alistair. 'So you must be the _bastardo_we heard of in Antiva.'

'I vote we kill him,' said Alistair sharply, his hand going to his sword.

'And I will not further insult Claudio Valisti by killing his man after allowing Oriana to die when she was under my protection,' said Elissa staying his hand.

Alistair sighed and looked to the others. Kallian shrugged her shoulders; arguments between the royal couple were not worth intervening with. Daylen however felt no such trepidation. 'He is offering to help us,' said Daylen. 'At the very least, he is good for setting up an ambush. Had we been a group of unsuspecting travellers we would be dead.'

'Is that a yes?' asked Zevran looking at the group and Elissa nodded grimly. 'Yes, excellent, I can think of worse things than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess.'

'You might want to stop that unless you want to be skewered on the King's sword,' pointed out Kallian as she undid the rope at his wrists and ankles.

'This is not a good idea, Elissa,' said Alistair darkly, his tone making it clear that he was deeply unhappy with this turn of events.

Elissa stood up and placed a hand on his arm. 'Please, trust me on this, I can explain, but we do not need more Crows after us.'

'Alright,' he said sighing heavily but conceding her greater wisdom on such matters, 'I see your point. Still if there were ever a sign we were desperate it just knocked on the door and said hello. If he so much as even looks to turn on any of us, you, I, Daylen or any of us…'

'You can get in line behind me,' stated Elissa. 'I take full responsibility for this decision and of the consequences.'

'Then you have my word, Queen Elissa, I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such time you release me from it. I am your man, without reservation, of this I swear,' said Zevran after Elissa had helped him to his feet. They shook hands. 'You have my thanks.'

'Don't make me regret this, Zevran,' said Elissa sternly as she stepped away from the assassin.

'Please it is just Zev to my friends,' he said flashing her a wide grin.

-…-

'Tell me about this quest you are on,' Zevran asked the table at large. 'You must be doing more than running from the likes of Loghain and Howe.'

Daylen chewed on his meat slowly. 'We are collecting allies to fight off the Blight,' he said. 'Grey Wardens have ancient allies I can call upon and that is what I intend to do.'

'So this Blight, it is real? The nobles in Denerim do not seem to think so,' said Zevran, 'they are too busy squabbling over what to do now they think they are without a King.' He gave Alistair a pointed look. 'Might I ask why, Your Majesty, you are trekking across hill and dale with the only remaining Grey Warden in Ferelden when you should be in Denerim putting a stop to Loghain and Howe, if their crimes are as grave as you all say?'

Alistair put down his knife and fork, more to prevent himself from throwing them at the elf than anything else. 'It is not a simple matter of walking in and claiming the Throne,' said Alistair. 'It is possible when we get to Denerim I will be apprehended and hung as a traitor. I need to prove that Loghain arranged the death of Cailan and we need to rebuild the army with the Grey Warden allies. With the Circle allied to us, then hopefully the Elves and Dwarves, we'll be able to convince the Bannorn of the Blight and of Loghain's deeds at Ostagar.'

'So in all this, despite you being King, you are the underdog?' enquired Zevran.

'It is the burden of being a bastard against a war hero who freed us from the Orlesians,' replied Alistair.

Zevran considered his reply for a moment. 'You know, Antiva has a long tradition of royal bastards.'

'You don't say?' replied Alistair dubiously, as everyone started paying attention to the conversation.

'Oh, yes,' said Zevran leaning back in his chair to scrutinise the King. 'They've led wars to claim the throne. Some of them have become kings. In fact, I'd say the current royal line in Antiva stems from bastard blood several times over.'

'Well aren't you just chock full of useless trivia today,' Alistair replied drily, not taking the bait that Zevran was laying down.

'Sadly, whenever a royal bastard rears their head in public and declares themselves, it often goes poorly for them,' the Antivan reminisced.

'Let me guess: they get assassinated?'

Zevran smiled at Alistair. 'Only the very popular ones.'

Alistair rolled his eyes, more at himself for rising to the bait. 'And the unpopular ones?' he dared to ask.

'Well, they get by somehow, I'm sure,' replied Zevran with a shrug. 'There was one fellow who did quite well working as a prostitute based on his uncanny resemblance to the king. Charged a fortune.'

This time Alistair smiled. 'Couldn't afford him, I take it?'

Zevran laughed heartily at the quick reply before he answered. 'That cynicism will serve you well, my friend. Hold onto it.'

-…-

'Do you think Zevran is right?' Alistair asked Elissa as they readied for bed in one of the bedrooms. 'Do you think I should be in Denerim fighting for the crown rather than here?'

Elissa looked up from the heath where she had been building a fire for the room. 'The last thing Ferelden needs is another faction squabbling in the Palace,' said Elissa. 'If you are to help Ferelden you would be better visiting the Banns and Arls who are likely to support you as we travel through their lands and show them you are doing something about the darkspawn rather than adding yourself as another name for the Lords to squabble over.'

'What about Anora and Loghain? Do you think they will try to kill me when they find out I didn't die with Cailan?' he asked her.

Elissa returned to the fire with her flint and began striking it for a spark so the kindling would catch. 'You would be foolish to discount the idea entirely,' she said. 'If Loghain has declared himself Regent then I don't see either him or Anora surrendering their position that easily.' A spark caught and began to spread over her carefully built fire. She stood up, backing away from the fire and bumping into Alistair having not realised he was standing so close to her. He wrapped his arms around her as she turned to face him. 'In truth, we both have to be careful. Whether we like it or not, we both have value to enemies either dead or alive,' she said, her hand stroking his cheek. 'We just have to find a way to stay ahead of any plots that may arise against us.'

'Just more pawns in a bigger game,' he summarised.

Her eyes flickered over his face as she nodded; he looked so much older after their return to Ostagar as the weight of everything Ferelden had lost really hit him. Elissa reached up on her tiptoes and twined her arms around his neck pressing a kiss to his lips, grateful for some privacy at last. Alistair tightened his hold on her, lifting her until she on was on the very tips of her toes kissing her with the desire he had been keeping in check since Redcliffe. How he had managed to stay his hands and not make love to her in the past ten days he did not know.

Elissa felt her senses overload as she melded to his gentle touch, which was at odds with his calloused fingers and powerful build. Her hands slid over his chest noting that even the last ten days, he was stronger, his muscles even more defined as he led the charge against darkspawn and bandit alike. He was utterly unstoppable and having seen everything he was capable of, she was in awe of him, particularly as the Chantry raised side of him gave away to a man who was slowly but noticeably adjusting to his role as King as he tested his emerging authority and power. He probably didn't think he was doing as well as she thought he was, but then he was the master of self-deprecation and she doubted if he would ever be comfortable with giving himself the credit he deserved.

She lost her train of thought as he kissed he soft spot behind her ear, gently nipping with his teeth to elicit a soft sigh deep in her throat as heat began to flood her core. Alistair's fingers slid up her back to the laces of her corset, undoing them deftly before stepping away to pull off the drakeskin garment from her body. They were back together within moments, one of Alistair's arms circling her waist again while the other cupped her breast, stroking her nipples, drawing tight circles over them in a motion that increased the ache building in her body rather than relieving it. The hand at her waist pulled at her shirt, drawing it free of the waistband of her trousers, up her back and over her head. She followed suit and tugged his shirt free as while he removed her breast band. They stood gazing at one another in the fire light and just for a few moments they could pretend they were simply young lovers untroubled by the wars that marched from all sides around them.

Elissa's hand went to a new scar, obtained in a skirmish before reaching Ostagar, her thumb traced it over his shoulder before she kissed it. She could help but think it unfair that it was them fighting for their lives when all they had wanted was as quiet a life their position could afford. Before August she had found herself thinking of blonde haired children with their father's eyes running and playing among the hills of Highever. But if it had not been them, then it would only be their children burdened with the troubles that now rested on their shoulders. Alistair pulled at the laces on her leggings before pushing them and her smalls down over her hips and thighs going to his knees to push them to her ankles. Daintily, Elissa stepped out of them as she shuddered from desire and a little from the cold as the fire had not yet fully heated the room.

Alistair looked up at her from the position on his knees, looking devastatingly handsome as he peered through his hair that had grown long enough to fall into his eyes – an improvement she felt suited him far more than the close crop he had maintained from his Chantry days. Before standing, his fingers traced a path over her calves, behind her knees and along the sensitive skin on the back of her thighs. As he cupped her bum, squeezing gently, he pressed a kiss to her womanhood, flicking his tongue teasingly over her wet folds. Elissa whimpered and grabbed his shoulders. But he did not remain there, his hands moving over her hips and waist as he stood.

'You have too many clothes on,' she informed him as her hands went to the laces of his breeches.

The delicate touch of her fingers against his aroused cock served only to harden him more. It suddenly seemed as if it had been months rather than days since he had last made love to his wife; the need in him was greater than it had been when they had been reunited two weeks ago. His breeches came loose and he lost no time losing them and his small clothes. The relief of being free of the confining clothes drew a sigh before he took her hands and led her back to the bed.

He wanted to be in her, buried deep while she cried his name out. When they reached the bed he slowly lay her down taking in her glorious, willing body, marvelling, not for the first time, that she was his. An idea came to him as she lay back and instead of joining her on the bed, he knelt before her, pulling her back towards the edge and dragging one of her slim legs over his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee before progressing along her thigh with a line of kisses, moving ever closer to her waiting core. She was aching now, he could tell by the subtle movements and the glisten of wetness between her legs.

Alistair did not feel the need to tease his wife too much as his moved his lips back to her womanhood, his tongue seeking out the tight nub that would bring her pleasure. Elissa collapsed back into the bed, lifting her hips as he licked her. She cried out softly with the pleasure and he brought one hand up over her abdomen to still her quaking form as his slid a finger in to her sex. She was hot, tight and wet, and he began stroking her slowly, feasting on her desire as she started to writhe beneath his touch. Her hands curled and tugged at his hair as she cried out his name between breathless moans. It did not take her long to climax, crying out as her body quivered against him, pulling his fingers deeper inside her as her muscles clenched.

Alistair licked his lips as he watched Elissa regain her control but her heaving bosom was far too enticing and before she calmed he crawled up her body. He kissed his way up her stomach, along the scar on her abdomen. Elissa's hands went to his shoulders, tugging him up her body and he would have willingly gone had he not wanted to devote some attention to her pert nipples and supple breasts. He dipped his head to one nipple, taking it in his mouth as his thumb worked the other. Elissa clung to his shoulders caught between crying out her appreciation and frustration that he wasn't giving her more.

'Alistair,' she whimpered, 'please.'

Her voice was strained, as tight as her body was for greater release. He didn't want to spend another moment not buried in her, eliciting all those delightful, delicious sounds that would drive him to insanity, so he lifted himself and positioned himself against her. 'Liss,' he said in a husky voice and her bright green eyes flew to his. He held her gaze as he slid into her willing body, her legs came up to wrap around his hips allowing him deeper access. She felt perfect, moulded to him as if she were made for him and him alone.

Then suddenly, she rolled them so he was on his back. He gasped in surprise at finding his wife seated above looking like the cat that had got the cream. 'Fuck,' he muttered as she ground her hips against his. She looked divine atop of him; it was a little practiced position so far as they were concerned but he could appreciate it all the same. Her red hair cascaded down over her breasts and she looked like a temptress as she adjusted her position on him. A perfect 'O' shaped her lips as she rocked against him before she braced against his chest to slide herself up and down his hard cock. Though inexperienced of this position, he didn't hesitate to explore her, fingers nimbly sliding over her soft curves and smooth skin moving to cup her breasts, thumbing her nipples until she whimpered before sliding back down to press against the tight nub of nerves between her legs as he met her movements with thrusts of his hips. Elissa's head was thrown back, crying out in a siren song of desire as she moved and as he watched her he occurred to him that he was undoing the Queen of Ferelden. His wife was riding him with all the enthusiasm of a lusty newlywed. His hands went to her waist to assist her with the rhythm she had set; lifting her off him a little further then rising to meet her in a storm of need and desire that he had never really felt before.

She cried out his name and he reached up pulling her down, the change of angle making her cry out but before she could protest he kissed her, devouring her lips and mouth before he turned the tables on her and flipped them so she was on her back once again. 'Now I have you,' he whispered in her ear as he reached down and pulled her leg up around his waist before he began moving, setting a rhythm that had her writhing and crying out his name between gasps and curses that would make a hardened solider blush. Nevertheless, she was still perfect as her hands ran over his chest, then to his back, gripping with each shudder of pleasure she experienced. As she climaxed, Alistair sealed his lips over hers, drinking in her cries as he joined her, flooding her womb with his seed. It was the most intense release he had ever experienced as her muscles worked against him pulling every drop from him. He nearly blacked out from the pleasure, trembling as he held her.

'Maker, Liss,' he muttered when his presence of mind returned some moments later as he rolled off her and pulled her into his embrace.

'A problem, my Lord husband?' she asked coyly, looking up at him through her lashes.

'Only that if we do that again, I might be tempted to lock you in a bedroom and be damned with the Blight,' he replied as his hand idly roamed over her back. 'That was… well, why haven't we done anything like it before?'

She shrugged one of her slim shoulders. Truth was, it had never really occurred to her, new as she was to all of this. It seemed so brazen and unseemly of a noble woman while she had been cloistered away in her sheltered life in Highever, blissfully unaware of the reality of the world around her. Life had taught her some harsh lessons in the past two months so it was up to her to seize moments to make the best of what she had.

'You know the others will talk?' he asked her cautiously.

'Oh can you imagine the scandal?' asked Elissa in mock seriousness. 'A husband and wife doing what husbands and wives are supposed to do.' She lifted her head and looked at him. 'How will we ever live it down?'

He raised his eyebrow at his wife. 'Why haven't you heard my dear? It'll be separate beds now, each night I'll escort you to your rooms and kiss you goodnight all the while fretting that the good spirits of the Fade have not blessed you with child.'

She sat up as much as Alistair's arms would allow her too. 'Is that what they teach you in the Chantry? You never told me you had such a significant gap in your education,' she smiled slyly.

'No, don't think so,' he teased. 'The Chantry was quiet clear, you dream of your child and the good spirits deliver it to your arms. Why what were you taught my love?'

'Why, I don't think you have the energy, Your Majesty. It requires exertion, and I simply worry that you no longer have the stamina for it,' she replied sweetly.

Alistair looked at her aghast for a moment before he rolled her, pinning her beneath him. 'No longer have the stamina?' he questioned as she giggled at his mock affront. 'We'll see about that, my dear.'


	16. The Heart of the Forest I

_My thanks to Darkly Tranquil for the beta-ing, and pointing out the one spelling mistake I really did not need in this fic. It was one of those that I told myself to 'spell it right, spell it right' and failed._

_13th Firstfall, 9:30_

Bannorn of Dragon's Peak, Ferelden.  
  
The seat of Dragon's Peak sat high in the mountains overlooking the city of Denerim, the Kingdom's beating heart and the seat of its Kings. By contrast to the bustling capital, Dragon's Peak was a cold and lonely place to inhabit; largely inhospitable it took true steel in a person's character to survive among the goat herders that occupied the mountainous terrain. Such isolation created powerful bonds between its freeholders with alliances that were meant to last; their Bann was of the same mould. Sighard was not a man who was easily swayed into casting aside an alliance for the sake of short term advantage, understanding the importance of stability in his demesne. He did not offer is allegiance easily and had acted with trepidation when King Cailan had asked the Bannorn to accept his brother as their King should he die in battle. Sighard was of the opinion that Queen Anora would have been a better choice to act as the country's ruler with the might of her father, the great Teryn Loghain Mac Tir behind her. Yet, Prince Alistair had the had the influence of the Cousland family, and Sighard had always trusted in the judgment of the Teryn of Highever; so much so that at one time, he had supported Bryce Cousland's proposed ascension to the throne. If Bryce had such confidence in the lad that he would wed his only daughter to him, Sighard had to believe that the boy had the potential to be a fine king. So in spite of his lingering doubts, he had offered Alistair his allegiance but part of him had been slightly relived when Teryn Loghain had returned and taken the regency. While it was troubling that that the last scions of the Theirin line were dead on the field, now was a time for rational guidance not boys playing at war.

So when Oswyn came to him with a story of outlandish proportions, Sighard could hardly give credence to the tale. However, his son was not prone to fanciful tales involving treason and regicide at a mere whim. Sighard clasped his hands behind his back as he pondered the possibility that Loghain had ordered his troops away from Ostagar leaving the last remaining Theirins to die. In spite of his confidence in the reliability of his son, he could scarcely countenance the idea that Loghain Mac Tir would betray his King and son of his closest friends. The relationship between Loghain and the Theirin throne had been forged in their struggle against the Orlesian occupiers and had transcended the deaths of Maric and Rowan Theirin. When doubts had been raised about the suitability of Cailan to assume the throne, it had been Loghain who had reassured the doubting nobles that he would be there to guide the young King.

Yet it was plain for anyone to see that the relationship between the King and his general had soured in the past year. The last nail in the coffin, so far as Sighard could tell, had been formally legitimising Prince Alistair and his marriage to Elissa Cousland. While Sighard had felt trepidation at the idea of the untrained Chantry-raised Prince being on the throne, Sighard had liked what he had seen of the boy and found him more personable than Cailan. There was little doubt that the hardships the Prince had endured in his short life had given Alistair more wit than Cailan was ever likely to possess. At any other time, with his abilities more tested, Sighard would have given his allegiance to Alistair whole-heartedly.

Until yesterday, he had been grateful they still had Queen Anora and Teryn Loghain, yet if Oswyn spoke the truth then perhaps this was not the good omen he had thought it to be. Particularly as it seemed Loghain had allied himself to that viper, Rendon Howe. It was an unwise choice as far as Sighard was concerned and he did not relish being under the command of a man who had, if the rumours proved true, recently murdered the powerful Cousland family. He had received several letters on the matter in the last month from various allies within the Bannorn. Most spoke of their unease about the developments and coming under the control of Howe, who had a reputation having his taxes and conscriptions curbed by Teryn Cousland.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock and he looked up inviting his guest into the room. His seneschal entered with a letter in his hand. 'A message from Her Majesty Queen Anora,' Everett announced handing it to Sighard.

Everett never opened Royal correspondence, they were for the eyes of the Bann and it was up to Sighard whether he showed that correspondence to Everett. The Bann of Dragon's Peak took the sealed missive and cracked the wax to pull a Royal Proclamation from the envelope. He read it slowly, frowning as he did so finding the words therein very disturbing. It's implication along with Oswyn's story did not make for a pretty picture if Queen Anora was suddenly requesting King Alistair return to Denerim so they could be wed. If the younger Theirin had survived, as Queen Anora was suggesting he had, then why had Loghain announced his death and why hadn't the King returned to the city to clarify the situation. Something was afoot and Sighard did not like where his train of thought was heading.

He handed the missive to Everett, who read it quickly. 'What do we do, my Lord?' he asked as he refolded the letter.

Bann Sighard had formally announced his allegiance to King Alistair and he wondered if it would be wise to go back on that. The Theirins had a habit of coming out on top in Ferelden even when the odds were against them. 'I want you to send a message out to South Reach. I want to know what Leonas Bryland has to say on the matter.

'Arl Bryland is likely to remain loyal to King Alistair, particularly with Rendon Howe acting as Loghain's second in Denerim,' the seneschal replied. 'Bryland's dislike of Howe is well known.'

'It does not do to presume these things, but that is what I am hoping for,' explained Sighard. 'We cannot act alone, I don't have the man power but with South Reach, there might be a chance.'

Everett bowed. 'Are we formally switching our allegiance to South Reach, my Lord?'

'It's that or march under the banner of that viper who claims Highever, Amaranthine and Denerim,' said Sighard. 'But act quietly; I do not want to bring the wrath of Howe and Teryn Loghain on us too soon.'

Everett bowed to his Lord before leaving the Bann to his thoughts. A little presumptuous, he decided, of the Dowager Queen to seek marriage to the new King when it was barely a month since they were both widowed, particularly if Loghain had a hand in King Cailan's death. Even if the Bannorn agreed to the union, it was likely that the King would enter a period of mourning for Princess Elissa. It was well known that Alistair had openly adored his wife and would be crushed at her loss.

Sighard sighed to himself, because with this one act, he suddenly found it very difficult to refute what Oswyn had told him. A power play had begun in Ferelden, and he had to hope he had chosen the right side.

_Southron Hills/Outskirts of the Brecilian Forest, Ferelden_

Morrigan's diversion had taken the group further westward than anyone had realised. They paused to get their bearings on a hillside looking out over the last of the vestiges of the Southron Hills to the edges of the forest below. Daylen frowned as his unseeing eyes scanned the horizon, clearly sensing something that the rest of them could not.

'The Veil is thin there,' he said pointing at the forest.

'The Brecilian Forest contains many stories and rumours about its nature,' said Leliana. 'It is said it is one of the oldest forests in Thedas.'

Kallian tilted her head toward Leliana. 'The variety of history taught in the Chantry is amazing.'

Alistair chuckled. 'The Chantry would like to have you believe that history began in Divine One, that there was nothing before.'

'That would cause problems for them,' mused Daylen. 'If nothing came before Divine One then Andraste wouldn't have existed.'

'You get ten lashes and sent to peel potatoes for a week for pointing that out,' said Alistair grimly, the memory of doing such a thing was stark in his mind. 'They don't like their own shortcomings pointed out.'

'And we all thought the Chantry was a place of succour,' said Daylen.

'Only when you play by their rules,' Alistair replied. He looked back out over the forest. 'Are we to head straight to the forest? We might as well see if we can find signs of the Dalish.'

'Well I don't disagree, how are we going to find them?' Daylen asked Alistair. 'Do you know how to track the Dalish?'

'Nope,' replied Alistair cheerfully. 'But Elissa does. If I remember correctly, her mentor in Highever taught her. A few clans used to settle in the forest around the castle in the summer months and she needed to know how to avoid them.'

'The Teryn of Highever must have been either incredibly paranoid or very well informed to have put his daughter through such training. Had she been brought up in Kirkwall she'd have been forced into silk gowns and taught embroidery whether she liked it or not,' mused Daylen. 'What did the Teryn of Highever know that no one else did?'

'I do think he knew more than anyone else did,' said Alistair. 'I just think he chose not to ignore what he was being told. After the Wardens confirmed this was to be a Blight, Teryn Cousland told me that the first Wardens to return to Ferelden had done so to search for a member of their order who became aware of the location of an Old God. King Maric believed it was a real enough threat and accompanied the Wardens on their mission through the Deep Roads.'

'It astounds me that everyone is so willing to turn a blind eye to this,' said Daylen. 'If Morrigan is right, with Lothering destroyed and the Blight touching the Brecilian they can't ignore it any longer.'

'Providing the Bannorn is not at war with itself,' said Alistair. 'If they actually muster against each other over Loghain then it could significantly reduce any support we can get to fight this.'

Daylen frowned. 'Can't you just be Kingly and demand their help?'

'You don't demand the loyalty of the Bannorn, Daylen,' said Alistair with a sigh. 'You earn it.'

The mage shook his head. As the continued on towards the forest.

-…-

Alistair and Daylen remained on point as they reached the first trees of the forest. Daylen held up an arm to halt their progress and Alistair pulled his sword to look at the runes. They blazed to life and the group moved seamlessly into their battle formation. Together they crept forward treading as silently as they could over the frosted undergrowth. At the back, Elissa and Leliana nocked their arrows in preparation of a target becoming visible as the mages readied themselves with the spells at their disposal. The only one among them who had yet to find their place in the line-up was Zevran, who darted off into the shadows. Elissa was just able to discern the movement of the assassin as he flitted through the shadows cast by the great trees that loomed all around them. She tracked his movement at all times, readying herself to react to the elf if he turned on them unexpectedly.

With Alistair and Sten now at point they moved out into a clearing that was darkened by overhanging trees, they stumbled upon a small group of Hurlocks. Separated from their warband, they were likely the weakest stragglers from a larger and more formidable group, but that did not make them less fearsome enemies. Their attention focused on the Grey Warden for a moment, long enough for Daylen to take advantage of the situation by producing a wall of fire behind them forcing the Hurlocks into a frenzied panic as they attempted to escape the flames. Leliana fired the first arrow as Alistair, Sten and Kallian moved in to engage the panicked enemy to dispatch them while they were disoriented. The skirmish was a messy, chaotic cacophony of spell, arrow, and sword as the group dealt with the Hurlocks.

Zevran flew out of the tree as a particularly angry Hurlock headed straight for Elissa. She had turned to aim for it but the nimble Antivan assassin was faster, driving his blades into the creature's back just as Elissa fired. He pulled them clean out and looked down in disgust at the fallen creature.

'I was not expecting them to be so ghastly,' he remarked wiping the blades on the leather of his armour. 'I must admit it is quite a lot to take in.'

'And here I thought you had just scarpered,' replied Elissa drily looking at the fallen darkspawn.

'No,' replied the elf, 'I prefer the shadows to hunt my prey. Something you would not be bad at, my dear.'

Elissa raised her eyebrow at the flirtation as Daylen put out the fire he had created.

'I could teach you, should you wish, to meld with the shadows,' he continued as if he had not said anything out of turn. 'You would be even more of a deadly goddess were we to do this. You certainly have the build to slide in and out of the shadows as a deadly temptress, ready to strike either by your arrow or by blade. Although you need further training when it comes to those blades, you are not as skilled as you could be.'

'Is that so?' she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning.

'I have been watching you spar in camp, of course,' he said. 'You need someone with subtly to teach you how to move your body not a large oaf who just charges into a battle.'

'I'm standing right here,' called out Alistair from where he was cleaning his blade nearby.

'He happens to be very elegant in battle, for a warrior,' said Leliana from next to Elissa.

Zevran smiled. 'You ladies have clearly never seen the true beauty in hiding from the shadows and striking quickly. It is such a shame,' he said shaking his head as he wandered off to loot the rest of the Hurlocks.

Wynne rubbed her forehead, hunched over as she surveyed the carnage. Elissa frowned as she saw a tremor pass through the mage's shoulders. Wynne hadn't exerted that much energy in the battle as the group had turned the frenzied panic to their advantage, taking down the enemy so quickly the darkspawn could not muster an effective attack. It was almost in slow motion that she fell, Wynne's knees giving out under her before she went to the ground. Nearly everyone sprung to assist the mage, rushing to her side as she hit the ground. Daylen pushed his way forward channelling the healing mana that Wynne had been teaching him to control since he had weakened himself helping Elissa.

He shook his head in surprise as he pulled away. 'She isn't injured,' he said as he scratched his head. 'We'll need to get her to safety.'

Without a word, Alistair bent down to pick the mage up. 'Morrigan won't be able to find us somewhere to camp,' said Alistair as he stood frowning at the dense canopy above them. It was bare from the autumn fall but visibility would be patchy for Morrigan's crow shape to reconnoitre terrain.

'Elissa?' asked Daylen. 'Alistair has spoken of your wilderness survival training in the forests around Highever. Would you be able to find somewhere safe?'

Elissa shrugged. 'Without knowing the forest well I can't guarantee that,' she explained. 'But I can do my best. I'll need to go ahead alone if I'm to be quick.'

'How will we follow?' asked Daylen.

'I taught Alistair how to read the Alamarri runes I use to mark my progress,' explained Elissa. 'He'll be able to guide you.'

Morrigan was looking at Alistair, sneering slightly at him. 'So you aren't quite the bumbling oaf you seem.'

'I have my moments,' he deadpanned in reply. 'But don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.'

_Denerim, Ferelden._

The tavern was one of the most depressing places in Denerim, the mead was too warm and it smelt of piss as the denizens were more likely soiling themselves rather than taking advantage of the latrines dug outside. However, the mead was alcoholic and not even Howe's men would step in here to further 'question' Maryn. He had been released once Howe had discovered that Loghain was looking for the man who had brought him the information about the Warden and Alistair Theirin to reward him for his services. Howe's thugs had forced him into his armour to disguise the torture they had subjected him too. Maryn's fingers were blackened from the screws that had been applied to him over the past day and his back ached from the harsh lick from the cat o'nine tails Howe's jailor favoured. Maryn hung his head feeling utterly miserable about his part in all of this, particularly as Maryn had not stood up to interrogation and admitted to the new Arl of Denerim that Elissa Theirin was in the company of the Warden and the King. Although he knew he was likely to go to the Void before he could repent his actions, Maryn had decided that for good or ill, he would find a way to serve King Alistair to make recompense for his mistakes. If only he had seen it in Lothering.

'My friend here looks like he could do with a drink,' said a man he did not recognise. 'How about putting it on my tab?'

'You still getting paid, Slim?' asked the bartender as he wiped a dirty rag around a tankard and looking dubiously at the man who was stood beside Maryn.

'I'm always getting paid,' replied Slim. 'Benefit of having many fingers in many pies behind my respectable façade, Tony. Unlike some people I can mention in here.'

'Yeah, yeah and that respectable façade won't be lasting much longer if Loghain has his way,' said Tony. 'You can't have missed the furore about your respectable employer.'

Slim put his hand on Maryn's shoulder. 'All thanks to this fella here, which is why I'm of a mind for a word,' he said taking the seat next to Maryn.

The Gwaren man looked at Slim. 'Whatever you want, you'll not get anything from me.'

Slim laughed. 'I have everything I need from you. A hardened enemy of good King Alistair would not have been hauled away for several hours of torture at the hands of Howe as he would have been more than happy to tell old Loghain that he was, in part, making merry with his fair Queen.'

Maryn frowned. 'Making merry with his fair Queen?' he repeated. 'With Loghain and Howe on him I don't think King Alistair will have much to make merry about.'

'I dunno, he still has to get heirs, I'd say that makes any man merry when they have a beautiful wife,' said Slim as he received a tankard. 'But the King's intimate life aside, something tells me you aren't over happy with your position.'

Maryn glared at the man beside him. 'What's it to you?'

'Well, I can't say I've been overly happy with my position either. You see, I've got a façade to keep up and I've gone from being Prince Alistair's steward to running around errands for Teryn Loghain,' Slim explained, 'for half the wage, when I should be serving the King. It seems a bit backward if you ask me; Teryn Loghain strutting around as Regent while King Alistair is out their fighting the Blight with a bunch of misfits, a Warden, and his Queen. I have a mind to throw the tables a little, if you will.'

Maryn frowned. 'Who are you?'

'Imeric Couldry at your service, 'Slim' to those that know me,' he said tipping his head to the barkeep. 'Now, I can see you and I working out something together to undermine our new lord and master. What do you say to that?'

As he looked in the depths of his mead, Maryn realised he had nothing left to lose. 'What sort of thing did you have in mind?'

Imeric 'Slim' Couldry smiled as he took a mouthful of ale. 'That's the spirit, my boy, that's the spirit.'

_The Outskirts of the Brecilian Forest, Ferelden._

'That was unexpected,' Daylen remarked to Alistair as they digested Wynne's story.

He had known that there was something different about the mage when they had found her in the Tower. The way the Fade clung to her was different from the other mages. He had dismissed it as a manifestation of her trials during Uldred's attack so to discover a Spirit of the Fade had possessed her and was keeping her alive was as surprising as it was concerning. From what Daylen could remember there were no documented cases of a Fade spirit entering the body of a mortal; the Chantry taught that the good spirits cared no one whit about the lives and fate of men and that it was the demons who sought them. Yet the proof of the falsehood of this claim sat on a log a short distance away resting. If Wynne's story was true, and Daylen could see no reason why it would not be so, then this spirit had been watching Wynne from the Fade since she was a child.

'Is she a danger to the group?' asked Alistair, concern for the group, but for his wife in particular lacing his voice.

Daylen shrugged a little helplessly. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'Did your Templar training include anything about spirit possession?'

'Not that I remember,' replied Alistair. 'Probably the same thing you are told. Fade spirits have no interest in the affairs of mortals.'

'Well, they have that wrong,' said Daylen sighing heavily. 'We'll have to watch her. She isn't possessed like the others in the Tower or Connor, but that doesn't mean there isn't a danger.'

Alistair sucked in a breath. 'It just doesn't seem possible,' he said to the Warden. 'To think we have to be on guard in case she turns into an abomination. It doesn't bare thinking about. I don't want to kill her.'

'Neither do I,' replied Daylen heavily looking back in the direction of the tent where he could make out the unusually bright swirl of the Fade where Wynne was sat in front of it.

-…-

Wynne looked over at Elissa, the only person to remain by her side as the others debated her fate. The younger woman was fletching some of the new arrows that she habitually crafted when they made camp. The young woman always seemed to be doing something, be it hunting, skinning meat for the fire, making arrows or sparring with Alistair, Kallian or Leliana. Her skill was slightly at odds with the girl she had met in Denerim when she had been on the other end of an assault by Thomas Howe. The only thing that had struck her as odd at the time was that she had been utterly at ease as she let Wynne heal her when other nobles became nervous about it. Elissa looked up and saw Wynne watching her. She smiled at the mage before she continued twisting the sinew she had been soaking for the past day around the feathers at the top of her arrow.

'I know what you're thinking,' said Elissa as she tied off the sinew and put the arrow aside. 'It's not particularly ladylike, is it? Perhaps I should muster myself to darn some of Alistair's socks, or mend one of his shirts.'

Wynne chuckled shaking her head. 'I was rather wondering why it was you didn't scurry away in fear,' she said, her eyes turning to Alistair and Daylen where they stood talking about the recent developments. 'I wouldn't stop them if they decided I was an abomination. It is possible that I am.'

Elissa sighed putting down her unfinished arrow. 'I'd never seen an abomination before I saw Conner and you know what struck me about him was I could feel the evil that inhabited him. It was like there was a giant black chasm in the room and I felt my hair stand on edge. I don't feel that with you,' said Elissa. 'I feel safe. I'm not sure that's really the word I'm looking for, but I do.'

Wynne smiled softly and touched a hand to her. 'It is kind of you to say,' she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

'Would you like to know what I think?' Elissa asked moving a little closer. 'I don't think you are an abomination if you retain your humanity.'

Wynne raised an eyebrow looking at younger woman in surprise. 'What makes you say that?'

'Do you feel like an abomination?' she asked.

The mage frowned as she considered Elissa's question. She didn't know what it would be to feel like an abomination, but she knew that she did not feel any different than she had before the incident. 'No,' she said. 'I feel as I always have.'

Elissa went to open her mouth as Kallian and Leliana joined them. She shut it again having forgotten what she was going to say focusing on Kallian's expression. The elf looked guarded as she looked at Wynne. 'Is there any way to cure you?' she asked.

Wynne looked at Kallian in surprise. 'I don't know that there is anything to cure,' the mage replied, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

'Well, it's just you are a little dead,' said Kallian.

Leliana hit Kallian on the arm, hissing her name in exasperation. 'You can't just say something like that,' the Chantry sister admonished.

'What, she is, she said herself she died protecting that other mage,' the elf pointed out before she turned back to Wynne. 'Your First Enchanter defeated that demon in the Fade to release Connor, couldn't we get Daylen to do the same for you with this spirit?'

'Well, spirits aren't quite like demons, Kallian,' explained Wynne. 'The Spirit of Faith would not just present itself to Daylen or anyone so it could be slain.'

Kallian's expression fell into one of sadness. 'But we don't want you to die, Wynne,' said the elf. 'You are our friend and you've helped all of us. So tell us how we can help you.'

'Oh my dear girl,' she said to Kallian. 'You are all very kind, but I don't know that you can do anything. We all have to die at some point and the best thing we can do is live the lives we have been given the best we can.'

Elissa smiled looking in turn at each of the women. 'Then we better make the best of the time we have.'

-…-

Alistair moved through the stances he had been taught in the Chantry to produce the mana draining 'spells' he had been taught in his ten years with the Chantry. While he had regularly worked through the basic drain and smite procedures, after learning about Wynne he felt it prudent to revisit the more complex side to his Templar training. It grated on him to think that he might have to use these skills on their healer, particularly as he considered her to be the nicest mage he had ever met in his life with her grandmotherly demeanour towards most of them. But neither he, Daylen, nor Wynne could be certain as to what sort of risk her condition could pose to the rest of the group. Thankfully, Daylen had not advocated slaying her upon her revelation, which was a good thing too, because Elissa, Kallian and Leliana had all closed ranks around the elder mage and he doubted very much if the three women would allow them to harm the old mage in any case. He could not entirely blame them and had he not had his Chantry training behind him, Alistair would have happily joined them in their bold assertion that Wynne posed no risk to them. But the years of training in the Chantry and the events he had witnessed in the tower had left him uneasy, and he could not discount his instinct that while Wynne presented no harm in-and-of herself, the spirit that was now inhabiting her mortal body was an entirely unknown quantity.

'Draw your weapon.'

Alistair spun to look at the giant Qunari that he often fought side by side with. 'What?'

'Your weapon,' repeated Sten. 'Draw it.'

'Why? Are we under attack?' Alistair asked frowning at the unusual request.

'I want to see what you can do,' said Sten, pulling the large, salvaged greatsword from his back.

Alistair looked at him at a bit of a loss as to what to do. 'You want to fight me? Just like that?' he queried as his hand went to the hilt of his sword.

'You are a King. How are you going to face your enemies if you cannot face me?'

He shrugged a little nonchalantly. 'It is a mystery, I'll admit, but I'm sure it'll work out in the end.'

'I should let your weakness damn us all?' asked Sten, flexing his considerable frame. 'Draw your sword. I'll try not to injure you permanently.'

Although every trained instinct in his body screamed at him to draw his sword against the seven foot kossith that was menacing him, he did not really think that Sten intended to do him serious harm. Instead, he stood before the giant; arms crossed over his chest, and did his best to appear unafraid. "Forget it. I don't have to prove anything to you," he said with the shake of his head.

Sten lowered his sword giving Alistair an appraising looking. 'So you do have a spine. Pity you don't use it.'

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'You are also a warrior of the Chantry, are you not?' Sten asked.

Alistair frowned. 'I was,' he replied.

'Then why do you allow the Bas Saarebas to roam free when they are a danger?' he asked of the King. 'Were they Qunari they would be leashed by Arvaarad and kept from being a danger.'

'Because not all magic is evil,' said Alistair. 'There is great good in magic that Daylen, Wynne and Morrigan can do.'

Sten frowned. 'There is also great evil in what they can do.'

'The same can be said of you or me,' countered Alistair. 'You slew the family that saved you, is that not a great evil? Yet here you help us with the Blight, is that not a great deed?'

'You are not as callow as I first though,' replied Sten. 'There may be great hope for you yet, even more so if you draw your sword. You do yourself little favour by duelling with the women.'

Alistair pulled his sword from its sheath. 'Those three women are honourable fighters,' he said readying himself for the Qunari's attack.

'Women are priests, artisans and shopkeepers within the Qun, they have no place pretending to be men on the battle field,' replied Sten. 'Why they wish to act as men does not make sense,' he said before he charged Alistair.

-…-

'It has to be said on a scale of stupidity, allowing the Qunari to attack you does rate quite highly,' Daylen observed as Elissa tended to Alistair's split forehead.

'He was proving his mettle in battle,' said Sten. 'With correct training he will be a true leader of men. We will spar daily and you will learn.'

'I'll certainly learn to duck more effectively,' replied Alistair as Wynne joined them with a herbal mixture she kept for keeping wounds clean so they would heal properly.

Elissa took it and started dabbing it on the cut, giving him a mock stern look when he hissed in pain. 'Keep still,' she said as she continued to work.

Wynne shook her head but there was a small smile on her lips. 'If I had more energy I would heal it for you, but as I don't we shall have to wait until morning.'

'And I can't do it as I've still got the wards to cast,' said Daylen. 'Anyway it's only a cut, I'm sure he can cope with green sludge and bandages for a few days.'

'You'll need to rest tonight, and I mean rest,' said Wynne sternly. 'It will probably assist your other concerns if you didn't indulge over much anyway. Just a few times a week will yield the best results otherwise you will run yourself dry which will be of no help.'

Elissa felt blush creep up her cheeks as Wynne spoke, not helped by Daylen chuckling next to the healer. It didn't matter how quiet they tried to be, it was impossible to be entirely silent. How a split forehead had turned into a frank appraisal of where they were going wrong in their marital affairs was a bit of a mystery for Elissa. Schooling her features, because she knew Alistair was staring at the mage aghast, she smiled at Wynne. 'Thanks, we'll take it into consideration.'

'Excellent news. That might mean some of us can get a good night's rest once in a while,' said Daylen before walking away to set his wards around the camp.

'If that is Ferelden's definition of over indulgence, then it is a good thing I am here to rectify it,' Zevran said to Wynne as she joined the main fire for some soup that Morrigan had made.

'Suffice to say that no one here needs a lesson in your meaning of over indulgence,' said Wynne as she sat down with her bowl.

Zevran turned to face the mage. 'And such a pity too. I was hoping for a glimpse of your magnificent bosom in the process.'

-…-

On account of his injury, Alistair had taken himself to bed early. Elissa suspected it was as much to do with the embarrassing details of their intimate relations being laid bare to the whole camp after Wynne's recommendation. Elissa had escaped the main camp, washing herself in the small trickling stream she had found whilst looking for a place to camp. It marked the edge of the camp and just beyond it stood Daylen. The mage was as still as a statue as he looked out into the forest. Elissa moved to a crouched position and looked out in the direction he was.

She stood up and crossed the narrow steam in two steps before joining the mage on the other side of the wards he used to keep the camp safe.

'Are you alright?' she asked Daylen as she joined his side, her eyes flicking between the mage and the gloom ahead.

'Can you feel it?' asked Daylen. 'It doesn't feel right.'

Elissa frowned. She had felt that something was amiss as she had scouted ahead and alone in the eaves of the forest. The forests around Highever had always seemed friendly and she had always felt safe there, but the Brecilian felt empty. It was as if the very spirit had been lifted from the trees and steams leaving emptiness in its wake. Most people would probably attribute the emptiness to the Blight that was rising up through concealed pathways into the Deep Roads within the forest but it was older than that.

'We will have to be careful,' Daylen continued. 'The Veil is so thin here I can almost see into the Fade itself. There has been so much blood spilt here.'

'Do you think demons roam the forest?' asked Elissa.

'With the veil so thin I would not discount it,' he replied. 'Do you know much of the history of this forest.'

'Only the stories I've heard in Highever and Denerim,' said Elissa. 'Tales of men wandering here and finding ghost and ghouls. I used to think they were tales to stop the children who lived nearby entering the forest and end up being eaten by wolves or bears.' She looked out into the gloom feeling the chill that seemed to seep towards her from all sides, as if attempting to envelop her in its misty coils. It was an entirely different kind of cold from that which they had experienced in the Southron hills; this cold was altogether more oppressive and threatening, as though it possessed as animus all of its own that resented the presence of living beings with its domain. 'I'm not so sure anymore.'

Daylen turned so he was facing her. 'You'll have to be careful, Elissa,' he said. 'The more I stand here, the less happy I am about you scouting ahead to track these elves alone. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you.'

The young Queen turned to look at the mage, incredulity that he would confess such a thing written across her face. "Why Daylen, I never knew you cared." she said eventually.

The blind mage shrugged, oblivious to Elissa's surprised expression, "I don't especially," he admitted. "But I'm practical. If you die, Alistair will go pieces and I need him functioning if we are going to stop the Blight."

Elissa raised her eyebrows before she looked out again into the forest. She could not deny that it worried her also. 'I don't see that we have any other choice.'

'When do we ever?' Daylen asked bitterly as he turned and stalked past her back towards the camp.


	17. The Heart of the Forest II

_A/N: My thanks to Darkly Tranquil, as always, for the frankly awesome edits and suggestions – apart from the part where he suggested I add more detail in about spiders. I don't like spiders, particularly not a 9am in the morning when I'm barely through my second cup of tea. Still, could have been worse, I'd have had nightmares if I had done it later in the evening._

_Further thanks to everyone who is reading. I do hope you are enjoying it, and if you are, drop me a line to say you are. Thanks again, and enjoy. _

_16th Firstfall, 9:30  
__The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden._

'Do you know much about the forest, Leliana?' asked Kallian in a vain attempt to alleviate the monotony of their journey through the forest. They had been hiking through the ancients woods for three days in search of the Dalish elves and the lack of progress in finding them was beginning to cause tempers to fray. 'Beyond it being the one of the oldest in Thedas, that is.'

Leliana turned to the elf. 'Why would I?'

Kallian shrugged nonchalantly. 'You just seem to know a lot; stories, songs and such like. I wondered if you could cheer us with a tale about this place?'

The Chantry Sister frowned. 'I doubt I could do that,' she said. 'You see people have always spoken of dark and mysterious woods, haunted by beings unseen. The Brecilian Forest is one such forest. They say the veil is thin here and spirits from the Fade pass over drifting through the trees and giving them an unnatural and sinister intelligence. It is said, if you feel you are being watching in the Brecilian Forest, you are.'

The elf looked around the woods taking in the darkness that had Elissa and Daylen troubled. 'Thanks for that,' she commented as her eyes fell on the mage. 'Makes me feel so much better...'

The mage didn't like the forest, he had told her so one evening when they had been tending to their chores. The encroaching Blight aside, he had told her of his ability to see into the Fade through the Veil, and here he could see the Fade far more clearly than he should be able to. Having been born and raised in an Alienage, she didn't really understand the Fade and the Veil, but the forest definitely exuded an unnatural aura that left her feeling tense and with a need to remain vigilant to whatever unnamed dangers lurked within its depths. Kallian didn't like all the time they were spending in it and Elissa had speculated that it might take a few more days before they found the elves, if there were any to be found. The Queen of Ferelden had a very pointed discussion with Daylen over the matter the previous night when he had called into doubt her ability to find the elves but her list of reasons as to why they had yet to find tracks were plausible. Kallian had no reason to think that Elissa could not do this; she had expertly guided them to Lothering after she had recovered from the attack at Highever, not to mention all the times that she had left Highever in the summer to go hunting. If she said it was going to take time on account of the size of the forest, then it was going to take time.

'Were you ever tempted to find the Dalish, my dear Kallian?' Zevran asked her diverting her thoughts.

She shrugged. Some elves from the Alienage ran away to search for their 'free' cousins but Kallian had not seen the appeal until her rampaged through the Arl of Denerim's estate; after that it had seemed like an excellent idea when weighed against the other alternative of a hangman's noose. How that noble bastard had tricked her into believing she could walk away with his money and her life Kallian did not know. If she was honest, she had been scared and she hadn't wanted to die, but some part of her did not want to admit that truth. Given how it temporarily turned out, she had initially wished she had killed the bastard, but had she it would have been unlikely that Elissa would have saved her. As much as Elissa despised Vaughan Kendells, Kallian doubted she could have condoned his outright murder. Kallian had chanced a glance of her royal employer as Queen Anora had handed down her sentence; Elissa had schooled her face into an impressive mask of noble indifference as she had listened to the judgement. In those moments, Kallian had hated her employer seeing her as nothing more than another heartless bitch _shem_ who was all airs and graces.

'Kallian?' prompted Zevran.

'No,' she answered. 'Well, once, not that long ago, but it was such a fleeting thought I doubt it counts.'

'It was said that my mother was Dalish, but of that I cannot be sure,' said Zevran. 'I did run away once, finding a Clan in the forest near Antiva City, but it was not as I expected.'

'So you returned to the city?'

'Indeed, and I do not regret it,' replied Zevran with a wide smile. 'Who could regret a life of wine, women and murder?'

Kallian shrugged; if that was what Zevran wanted of his life then there was little point in regretting it. In many ways, Kallian had ultimately gotten what she wanted. Her preference had always been to follow in her mother's footsteps and put her training to good use, but then she was given the opportunity to serve in the Royal Household; an offer that was simply too good for an Alienage elf to refuse. Reluctantly, she had laid down her weapons for fear of being branded a troublemaker and taken up her duties as Elissa's personal maid. There was certain irony in that, given how her skills were presently being employed.

'I suppose it is foolish to regret the things you want,' she acknowledged quietly.

-…-

_South Reach, Ferelden._

'My Lord, this really cannot continue,' said Robert after returning from the dungeons. 'If you don't charge the Howe boy with something we'll have his father knocking on our door.'

Leonas Bryland sighed as he regarded his seneschal. It was well know that the youngest Howe was a brute and a bully of the worst kind; it was an open secret that his favoured pastime was to get roaring drunk with some of the other young noble louts that frequented Denerim, and then head to the Pearl to the 'play rough' with the girls that worked there. More often than not, one of his visits would result in the girl in question requiring the attention of a healer. But as it was in Denerim, no crime could actually pinned on the whelp as the girls would close ranks and not whisper a word of what was done. The combination of the coin he brought in and the reputation of his father ensured that he never suffered any adverse consequences for his deeds. As much as it galled him to do so, Leonas knew he would have to let him out of his prison and hope he did not see fit to the visit the whorehouse once again.

The only silver lining was that Elissa and the Warden has seemingly vanished into Southron Hills, and perhaps, by now seeking shelter in the Brecilian Forest. His patrols down to a few out of the way farmsteads had revealed their path, and his men had done their best to cover the tracks they found. Elissa would resurface in her own good time, and Leonas hoped that the resurfacing happened close to South Reach so that he could warn her of Howe's plans.

'Fine,' said Leonas. 'Let him go and have him escorted to the village outskirts. Let us not leave him in any doubt as to how we feel about him remaining here.'

'As you wish, my Lord, but before I go, there is another matter that has arisen. A missive has arrived from Bann Sighard. The contents of which are interesting,' he said as he held out the note. 'A Royal Decree accompanies it, one that we have yet to receive.'

Bryland took the letter with a sense of trepidation. Sighard had been on his list of men to contact but he had been wary of doing so. The man had been on the fence when Prince Alistair had been crowned as their King-in-Waiting and he had been a vocal supporter of Loghain in the days running up to King Cailan leaving for Ostagar to confront the Darkspawn. Nonetheless, Leonas had been hopeful that he might make use of Sighard's well-known dislike of Howe to sway him to his cause; the Bann of Dragon's Peak could not be happy at the prospect of having to swear fealty to a man his despised. While Leonas was not certain as to whether they should push Elissa to bid for the throne as the remaining member of the Ferelden's second family, he did know he needed support against Loghain to bring his crimes to light. He pulled the missive out and read it carefully before turning his attention to the accompanying decree. He looked at Robert as he finished to reading it to gauge the man's reaction. A half formed smile was on his seneschal's face. Robert had fully committed himself to seeing that Elissa was found safe and well and that Howe's men got what was coming to them.

'I do believe, my Lord, this answers the question of who should be put forward for the throne,' he said.

Arl Bryland nodded thoughtfully. 'It does tie up that loose end rather neatly,' he agreed. 'It also seems we have a new vassal to the Arling. Could you see to it that we can offer Bann Sighard all the support we are able to? He may need it once Howe finds out.'

Robert bowed. 'I will see that it is done, my Lord.'

-…-

Thomas Howe glared at Arl Bryland. 'My father will hear of this,' he said venomously. 'You forget that you don't have Bryce Cousland to hide behind anymore.'

Bryland crossed his arms and looked at the boy in front of him. His father's elevation along with the promise that he would be able to take Elissa as his bride had made him even more obnoxious and cocksure than he used to be. 'I repeat: you are not permitted to remain in South Reach nor are you welcome to re-enter my lands.'

'You might want to retract that,' said Thomas, 'or you might find your lands in trouble. My father has the ear of Loghain. He's your ruling Teryn, is he not?'

Bryland chuckled humourlessly. 'Do not make idle threats, boy, you'll not be able to back them up. Now, have I made myself quite clear or do we need to go over this again?'

'You won't be laughing when I have that Cousland bitch,' retorted Thomas. 'This is what this little charade is all about. Well, just so you know, I'll break her so hard she'll wish she died in Highever.'

Bryland remained impassive as he spoke. 'Please leave,' he said again. 'You are not welcome here and I will not tolerate you here for another moment.'

Thomas laughed as he turned on his heel. 'Believe me; the day will come when you will regret this, Leonas Bryland. I bet you'll squeal like a pig when you do. Just like Bryce Cousland did!'

Leonas Bryland knew the little whelp could throw all the threats around he liked. But it would be King Alistair who would have the last laugh, preferably as he skewered Howe and his despicable son on his sword. Bryland didn't feel the need to reveal the rumour that the King had survived Loghain's treachery and he certainly didn't see the point in telling the little upstart that Elissa had already found her way back to her husband. With any luck, by the time she reappeared she would be carrying the next Theirin heir. That would be enough to bring a halt to any plans Loghain or Howe might have on the King and Queen. By providing an heir, the new King and Queen would achieve what Cailan and Anora had not managed in nearly six years of marriage, and in so doing, would silence almost all dissent against their right to rule. Although new rumour had surfaced in the last months that it was Cailan who could not father a child, it could not be confirmed that Anora could conceive either and Bryland doubted the Bannorn really wanted more years of uncertainty should Anora remain their Queen and not have a child of her own. However, there was some credence in the rumours about Cailan; he was known to have a large appetite for women and in all his years of philandering, Cailan Theirin had never sired a bastard either. If he had been sterile, he didn't get it from his father. However, such words were regarded as treasonous and spoken softly and only in the most trusted of company.

The door slammed shut and Bryland looked at Robert. 'I think, my Lord, the whole situation would have been improved had we bodily thrown him out the front door and down the steps,' the seneschal remarked drily.

'As entertaining as the thought is,' said Bryland, 'we must not provoke him too much least he turn from his task and continue to cause problems here. As much as I would like to put an end to the loathsome brat myself, I cannot bring myself to deprive our rightful king of that pleasure when the time comes.'

_The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden_

Kallian was laughing, she was trying not to, but it was so difficult. In the past month, her entire outlook on life had altered and with it, her perception of her former employer turned travelling companion. Between battles with the undead, darkspawn and bandits, Kallian had utterly forgotten that Elissa Theirin did have weak spots and that one of them was spiders – the other was apparently knitting needles for reasons she would not disclose. The rest of the group had been discussing a way to crack Morrigan's icy veneer when a scream rent the air. Even Kallian could not mistake Elissa's cry of utter horror and she had taken off after Alistair in search of a woman who could be just about anywhere within the forest. There was another scream, this time a little closer as a rustle in the undergrowth indicated that someone or something was heading their way. Alistair and Kallian readied their weapons in case it was not Elissa. Cassius burst through the evergreen bush first as the sound of clicking reached their ears accompanied by a strange scurrying that sounded like far too many legs. They waited, weapons primed as the rest of the group joined them before Elissa stumbled through the undergrowth. Kallian had never seen her look so pale and dishevelled, nor shake so much without a significant injury. The sound followed her and Leliana fired an arrow into the bush which resulted in an unearthly squeal of anger and pain.

The first of the forest spiders burst through the undergrowth, an arrow lodged in one of its legs, spitting venom in defence after receiving its injury. It was a giant beast, easily dwarfing Elissa's behemoth Marbari who was stood over his mistress in a defensive position ready to lunge as more giant spiders followed. Like the first one, they were black but had various coloured strips on their abdomen. The fangs on the creatures clicked menacingly as they honed in on the group of companions. One of the larger spiders jumped and took Sten down with it; the Qunari wrestled it but it took Zevran jumping on it and driving his daggers into it abdomen to free Sten from the frenzied attack and even then the spider wasn't dead. As the spider raised itself on its hide legs to shoot some web, Sten swept his greatsword around and separated it's abdomen from the rest of its body. He left the oozing, bloodied remains twitching as he turned to aid his fellow companions.

For the duration of the brief melee Elissa remained catatonic, reacting only when some of the ichor from the spider Sten was dismembering splattered onto her, eliciting the kind of girlish shriek one would expect from pampered noblewoman. When the battle ended Daylen looked at Elissa with exasperation from where she watched on.

'Spiders,' he said a little incredulously. 'Seriously?'

Elissa shook herself but she had to cross her arms over her body to stop herself from shaking. 'Hate 'em,' she said as Alistair slid a comforting arm around her. 'By the Maker,' she cursed as she turned into his embrace so that only he could hear.

Of course, there was a perfectly good reason why the Queen of Ferelden had been too preoccupied to notice she had stumbled into a giant spiders nest. She had finally found some promising Halla tracks. They were a few weeks old, but the lack of rain in the forest at this time of year meant they had been persevered by the cold weather. So focussed had she been on finding a clue to the whereabouts of the elusive Dalish that she completely failed to notice that she had stumbled into the webs of human eating spiders.

'Could you try not to do that again?' asked Kallian, putting her hands on her hips to look down at Elissa, who sat on the ground. 'That shade of deathly pale really does not suit Alistair.'

Elissa glanced up look at her husband as he spoke with Daylen about her discovery, his eyes occasionally flicking back to Elissa to check she really was okay. She had made a quite a scene and was feeling more than a little sheepish about the whole thing. She bent her head and laced her fingers over her neck, surprised to discover she was still shaking and wanted to be sick. She'd been no more than five summers when she had seen her first giant spider. It had taken down a horse and man in one leap thus ingraining the incident into her young mind. Now nearing her twenty first year it remained her greatest fear. She shook herself as the two men walked over.

'Seems the spiders got quite a haul,' observed Daylen wryly, gesturing to several large cocoons resting nearby. 'Several relatively fresh Templars from the Circle. I imagine they were tracking Jowan.'

Elissa shuddered again. 'I'd really rather not know, Daylen,' she said lifting her head. 'I'd rather we get as far away from here as possible.'

'You know, they weren't as big as those beasts under the Tower of Ishal,' Daylen pointed out reasonably before remembering she had been too badly injured to continue through to the tunnels that led to the battlefield. 'Ah, no, you didn't see those did you?'

'Stop it,' she hissed as Kallian remarked under her breath that Daylen hadn't seen them either.

Alistair tilted his head to Daylen. 'Helpful as you are trying to be, I don't recommend continuing this course of conversation,' he advised the mage, a hint of warning in his voice. Daylen shrugged as Alistair turned to Elissa. 'Do we need to go through the nest to follow the tracks?'

Elissa shook her head. 'The tracks passed the nest, I just activated one of the outer traps,' she said as she glanced up at the sky. It was getting late. 'I'm not going to have enough light soon, but I really don't want us camping here.'

'We should have an hour at least,' said Alistair looking up. 'If we move out we should be able to manage a mile or so.'

Glad to have a plan, Elissa got to her feet. 'Let's get out of here, lest I end up with nightmares.'

-…-

The camp fire was crackling merrily when Elissa climbed out of the tent she shared with Alistair. He had been assigned the first watch and with everyone turned in for the night she went to join him. Truth be told, the encounter with the spiders had left her jittery and she didn't want to be alone. Elissa paused as she looked Alistair wondering when he had become her rock when she had once been so adamant that she did not need, or especially want, to be married. She dropped down beside him and blew out a long breath as she looked at the fire.

'When you said you had a paralysing fear of spiders, I thought you were joking,' he said turning his head to look at her, 'particularly as you followed it up with your apparent fear of knitting needles.'

She smiled sadly. 'I saw one of my father's men taken down by one,' she told him. 'I was only little and it's just ingrained in my mind. Whenever I see one, I remember the helplessness I felt as I watched that man die. No one was able to save him; there were ten men trying to fight it off and he still died.'

'Are you alright?'

Elissa nodded her head. 'Fine,' she lied.

Fine apart from the fact she didn't want to try and sleep alone. Alistair sensed her unspoken thoughts and moved his hand to her neck to begin massaging the tight knots that had formed in the muscles there. She sighed in relief as all the tension relaxed until something caught her eye just in the shadows. Elissa shrugged Alistair off as she looked out of the corner of her eye in the direction she had seen the apparent movement. The forest played tricks and it was not the first time that Elissa had thought she had seen something in the out of the corner of her eye, but this time there was evidence. As she placed a hand on Alistair's leg to stop him from getting up she turned her head a little to to observe the swaying branches.

'We're being watched,' she said, turning back to the fire. 'The elves have scouts out here. We must be closer than I thought.'

Alistair leant in to her. 'Will they attack?'

'I don't think there are more than two of them,' she said quietly. 'They'll likely report back to their Clan and if we get any closer they may challenge us. Who is on watch after you?'

'Sten,' said Alistair.

Elissa nodded. 'We best let him know that we are under observation. At least Daylen will be pleased. It seems that we have arrived at last.'


	18. The Heart of the Forest III

_I suppose the first thing of note is my new pen name – I changed it because, well, I wanted to. Moment of whim. _

_Secondly, my thanks to Darkly Tranquil for smoothing out the rubbish bits. _

_17th Firstfall, 9:30  
__The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden.  
_  
For the band of weary travellers, it was an unusual experience that the most belligerent force hunting them was the shy and retiring Dalish elves. The group walked in close formation, so as to prevent any member of their party being waylaid, with Elissa, their tracker, and Daylen, their Grey Warden representative, in the lead. Although she hadn't voiced her concern, she knew it was odd for the elves to remain in one place for long. Even within the Brecilian Forest, the Dalish lived close enough to human settlements to create antagonism between the two groups whenever they stumbled upon each other. Why they did not choose to dwell in the deeper reaches of the forest where humans did not wander she could only speculate, but she suspected that it had to do with the foreboding mystical presence that seemed to linger at the fringes of one's awareness. She had warned everyone to be careful but on guard; they walked with their weapons clearly visible but not drawn. Elissa was well aware of the capacity of the Dalish to respond with violence if they felt threatened and did not want to provoke them to action without at least having the opportunity to parley with the nomadic elves first. During the previous summer her father had to lead a patrol into the forest around Highever when a group of merchants had been slaughtered after getting too close to the camp and not backing down. Her father had managed to get the elves to move on peacefully which was a far better outcome than a bloody battle between the elves and vigilantes from Highever.

'How much longer?' asked Daylen as midday approached.

'Difficult to say,' she replied glancing around. 'The scouts won't let us get too close the camp. I doubt it will be too much longer.' Beside them, Cassius whined as he looked around; ever since they had entered the forest, the Mabari had become increasingly agitated and fretful, as if the forest posed some kind of the threat that only his keen canine senses could detect. Elissa patted him on the head, ruffling him affectionately behind the ears. 'It's okay boy,' she soothed the dog affectionately. He barked loudly and Elissa held out a treat for him. 'Good boy.'

Pushing through some particularly heavy undergrowth, they emerged into a clearing to find themselves face to face with a party of Dalish elves clad in green dyed leather armour that blended in superbly with the surrounding vegetation. Had they not been standing in plain sight, they would have been all but invisible. Four of the elves arrayed before them held drawn longbows, their arrows pointed directly at Elissa, who had been the first to enter the clearing. Knowing her husband's extreme protectiveness of her safety, Elissa shot him a warning glance to remain where he was, lest they accidentally provoke the elves to attack. Satisfied that Alistair was not going to do anything rash on her behalf, she raised her hands, palms forward in a gesture of peace, to show that she had no intention of reaching for her weapons.

'Stop right there, outsider, the Dalish are camped here,' said their leader, a deeply tanned, blonde haired female with elaborate facial tattoos that wound their way from her brow, down her cheeks, and onto her chin, serving to make her appear even more wild and exotic. She stepped forward, casting a judgmental eye over their party, and said, 'I suggest you go elsewhere and quickly.'

Elissa stepped forward to meet the elven woman. 'We have come here seeking the Dalish on a matter of great importance.' Unsure of what to say next, she glanced back at the Grey Warden behind her. 'Um, it's your treaty Daylen...' she prompted.

'I find that hard to believe. What business could a group like you have with the Dalish?' the elven woman replied sceptically. Her cold, calculating gaze swept over the party, lingering momentarily on the elves in the group before moving on, but not before the slight twist of her lip could be detected by those with an eye for such things.

'We represent the Grey Wardens,' said Daylen coming to stand level with Elissa.

The tattooed elf crossed her arms and looked at the Warden dubiously. 'How do we know you speak the truth?'

'You get many people dropping by pretending to be Grey Warden's, do you?' Alistair drawled sarcastically.

The scowling elf woman waved her hand at the archers and they lowered their bows. 'Seeing as you are obviously no simple trespassers, I will leave it to the Keeper determine the importance of your business. In the camp I suggest you keep your hands to yourself and remember our arrows are still trained on you.' She glanced to the trees that surrounded them to imply they were being watched just out of sight before turning her back on the group. 'Follow me.'

Daylen turned to Elissa, surprise and relief written across his features. 'By the Maker, you actually managed it.'

'Is that a compliment?' she asked with a wry smile.

Shrugging noncommittally, he said, 'Maker only knows... But then, stranger things have happened.'

The group trailed after the band of elven hunters for more than an hour as they were led along a winding course through the depths of the forest. For her part, Elissa suspected that the path they took was intentionally designed to disorient them and prevent them from finding it again at a later date. As the approached the Dalish camp, Elissa began to notice flashes of bright colour through the leaves that, when they emerged into the large clearing the elven camp occupied, revealed themselves be the famed Aravels or 'Landships' the Dalish were famous for; each ship bore the colours and symbols of one of the old Elven houses from the time of Arlathan. The Dalish claimed that they alone were the pure blood elves and shunned all other races, even their city dwelling kin; Kallian and Zevran would be the two who were most frowned upon in the group for submitting to the command of men.

Kallian drew close to Elissa as they entered the settlement. 'Why do they keep looking at me that like?'

'Because you choose to remain among the humans,' replied Elissa.

'Yet they are so welcoming of our kind when we seek them out,' Kallian muttered bitterly, frowning as she returned the Dalish elves distrustful looks. 'Many who search for them return because they are treated with contempt. We are damned if we do and damned if we don't.'

Elissa shot her a sympathetic look but knew anything she could say to the elf would be seen as condescending given Elissa's status as a privileged noble who had grown up without restrictions on her freedom. Of course, the scope of Elissa's freedom to come and go as she pleased was likely to be significantly curtailed once she and Alistair were installed in Denerim palace and she took up the duties of Queen. From then on, it would be Landsmeets, state dinners, gala receptions, and being trailed by bodyguards and ladies-in-waiting wherever she went; it was not a prospect she particularly relished, she had a hard enough time finding enough for one maid to do let alone a whole army of them.

'I guess you don't really understand, do you?' said Kallian, a note of bitterness in her voice. 'You can pretty much do as you please without consequences.'

'You do recall that both of us are currently on the run from those who would have us killed?' Elissa asked pointedly.

Kallian sighed heavily to herself as they were led to the centre of the settlement where two elves, a man and a woman, where stood discussing what appeared to be a grave matter. Their heads were bowed together speaking in whispers and they only looked up when the scowling elf was mere meters from them. The male, tall for his race with a bald head looked up and cast a glance over the group. Like the elves that had escorted him, this elf, clearly the Keeper whom their guide spoke off, had an intricate tattoo inked into his face. His gaze was dark and unwelcoming; he frowned as he left his companion, a younger light-haired woman whose expression, while not friendly, did not hold the same sort of hostility of the elves they had thus far encountered.

'I see we have guests. Who are these strangers, Mithra?' asked the elf.

For a man who seemed to be the leader of the clan he looked surprisingly youthful, but there was something about his speech and demeanour that reminded Elissa of someone much older. She turned to Daylen who stared at him, clearly seeing something in the Fade that the others could not. Beside her Cassius grew agitated, his hackles rising as a snarl built in his throat.

'I have precious little patience, and less time to spend on outsiders today,' he said tersely.

The woman who had guided them to the camp, and was apparently named 'Mithra', nodded in acknowledgment. 'I understand but they claim to be with the Grey Wardens,' she explained to the Keeper.

The Keeper turn his attention to the group arrayed before him, casting an appraising gaze over them. The attention of the Elven keeper caused Cassius to become even more agitated, barking and snarling at the elf. Elissa frowned and grabbed his collar as the Keeper looked in disgust as her Marbari.

'As if we have need of this,' he muttered in the direction of the snarling hound.

Despite Elissa's best efforts to calm the angry hound, Cassius continued to growl and bark, before attempting to launch himself towards the elf. Elissa was momentarily pulled off balance by the inexplicable fury of her pet before Alistair intervened, grabbing Cassius by the collar and hauling him back with sheer muscle power.

Elissa dropped to a knee beside Cassius and began stroking his head and neck. 'Be calm, Cass. Everything's fine.' she soothed. Rising, she turned to the Dalish leader to apologise. 'I'm sorry. He's not normally so aggressive. Something about this forest has him spooked.'

'I see,' muttered the Keeper as he turned from the dog back to Elissa. 'Tell me stranger, what business could you possibly have with us? We have our own issues we must deal with as you can see.'

She looked around the camp, as did the others, taking in the scene she had not noticed while engrossed in conversation with Kallian. Line after line of elves lying on simple bound cots in varying states of sickness; the worst of whom seemed to be writhing and groaning in agony as the healers attempted, with little apparent success, to treat whatever it was that ailed them.

'As you scout explained, we come representing the Grey Wardens,' said Daylen. 'She did not believe us.'

Zathrian nodded before turning to Mithra. 'Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post.'

'Ma nuvenin, Keeper,' replied the elven guard before moving off.

The Keeper watched the elf go before he return his attention to Daylen, who had taken position ahead of the others to indicate his leadership of the group. 'Now, let me introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan, it guide and preserver of our ancient lore. And you are?'

Daylen let his eyes flicker over the elf, feeling out the presence that seemed to be within him, it was clear this man was more than what he appeared to be. He frowned in thought, turning to glance in the direction of Wynne, who stood with her back to the elf as she conversed quietly with Leliana. 'I am Daylen Amell, mage and Grey Warden of Ferelden, and these are my companions,' he explained

'If you have come to bring news of the Blight in the south, it is not needed. I have already sensed its corruption,' Zathrian explained. 'I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not.'

'Yes, it seems like you have your own troubles,' said Alistair darkly, looking back at the Keeper. 'What are the odds of that?'

Zathrian ignored the remark turning back to Daylen. 'I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made,' he said, his tone tinged with what sounded to Daylen like genuine regret He looked over towards the injured clan members. 'This will require some explanation. Please follow me.'

The elvish Keeper led them to the makeshift infirmary where it became abundantly clear that many of the elves were suffering an array of vicious claw and fang wounds that wept blood continually and resisted all attempts at healing while causing tremendous pain to the afflicted. In spite of her poor opinion of the Dalish, Kallian could not help but be moved to sympathy by the sight of the terrible wounds the elven hunters endured. 'Is this Blight sickness?' she asked in a hushed voice.

'No,' replied Zathrian. 'They have been bitten by werewolves. We are aware they are here, but we did not expect them to be lying in wait. They ambushed us and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak.' His voice was sad, regretful as he looked over his clan members painfully succumbing to the curse that had infected them through the bites. 'Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts.' He turned back to Daylen. 'The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry.'

'Is there no way to help you men?' asked Daylen. 'Perhaps you'll permit our healer to look at them. She is has great skill in healing sickness.'

Zathrian shook his head. 'It is unlikely she'll be able to help. The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately either death or a transformation into something monstrous. The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that, that would be no trivial task to retrieve.'

Daylen rolled his eyes. 'But you are going to ask anyway, aren't you?'

'If you want our help,' said Zathrian, 'you will have to aid us first. There are no other clans in the Brecilian, the last left before Harvestmere after an unfortunate incident in another part of the forest.'

'There are clans that live to the north,' replied Daylen, remembering why it was that Elissa had been able to lead them to the Dalish in the first place.

'They moved on in Kingsway,' said Elissa. 'I believe they headed beyond the Frostback mountains back to what remains of the Dales.'

Daylen sighed. 'What is it you would have us do?' he asked turning back to Zathrian.

'Within the forest dwells a great wolf – we call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it has been spread,' the Keeper explained. 'If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven too dangerous for us.' He indicated for the group to move on. 'I sent some hunters into the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan.'

'Elissa, would you be able to track a wolf as well?' Daylen asked Elissa.

'It isn't just any wolf,' said Zathrian. 'It cannot be easily tracked.'

'I can do my best,' said Elissa frowning, not relishing the thought of going deeper into the mysterious forest. 'But do you think it wise?'

'I believe it is our best shot at securing the aid we need,' replied Daylen, effectively closing the matter.

'He's hiding something,' Daylen announced as his unseeing gaze fixed on Zathrian in the distance. 'There is something he is not telling us.'

'Your ability to state the obvious is startling,' remarked Sten dryly.

Daylen turned back to the usually stoic Qunari and rolled his eyes. 'I want you to talk to the other elves and see what they have to say,' he said to the rest of the group.

'That might be easier said than done,' Alistair pointed out. 'We're human outsiders and the Dalish are remarkably insular.'

'I realise that, but we can't turn our back on the treaty,' replied Daylen. 'We need the support, Alistair.'

'I would agree with you, but it is my wife you intend to put in harm's way to track this creature,' said the King, each word conveying his displeasure at the idea of Elissa up to a mile or so ahead while werewolves stalked them.

'She goes out hunting all the time,' said Daylen, 'and Morrigan can follow her in crow form to back her up.'

Alistair crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the Grey Warden. 'Yes, that makes me feel so much better,' he said sarcastically. 'Send my wife out to hunt werewolves with only a maleficar for immediate back up? I don't think so.'

'Must I remind you that this is necessary?' said Daylen. 'We have precious few allies as it is, given that all the survivors from Ostagar will be Loghain's men. We have no Grey Wardens either thanks to Loghain's withdrawal at Ostagar. The only hope we have to secure new allies to replace those we have lost is to aid the Dalish; that means we have to let Elissa attempt to track Witherfang.'

'No,' Alistair replied vehemently.

Elissa looked between the two men. 'Do I get a say in this?' she asked.

They both turned to look at her. 'No,' they said in unison before returning to their argument.

As it descended into a disagreement over who was actually giving the orders, Elissa shook her head and held up her hands. 'Fine,' she said. 'Let's make this simple; I refuse to track the werewolves. I withdraw my consent.' She folded her arms over her chest as the two men turned to look at her.

'But we need these warriors,' spat Daylen. 'If we fail against the darkspawn now then Ferelden will fall, and is that you both of you want? To see your country shattered beyond repair? You do not understand the darkspawn, the song they submit to and the single minded desire of the Archdemon to kill, taint and conquer Thedas. This may be our only chance to end the Blight before it really begins. Would you rather stand with your husband and watch Ferelden burn with Taint?' asked Daylen, his tone quiet but intense with barely contained anger. It was more effective than his usual bad temper and most of the group had backed off in fear of what would happen. 'I was beginning to think you were more than some pampered noble, but that is all you are; both of you throwing a tantrum because what we have to face isn't safe or easy.'

To the infuriation of Daylen, Elissa replied in a soft, mild tone that indicated that his argument was a minor point in her current considerations. 'Are you done?'

'Yes,' snapped the Grey Warden.

Elissa nodded before she turned her attention to Alistair. 'May I just ask, Your Majesty, just who do you think you are talking to?' she asked him, her tone and look reminiscent of her own mother. 'You might be my husband and King, but that does not give you the right to decide what I can and cannot do as if I do not stand here listening to your every word. I am still capable of making a decision, and if I tell someone I am doing something for them, then that decision is mine.'

Alistair grabbed her arm gently and stepped to her. 'I do not want to see you in needless danger. It is bad enough watching you fight the darkspawn and worrying you will be Tainted,' he said in a low voice, 'but to watch you actively go against beasts who can move so fast that you would not be able to draw weapon before they savage you? Don't ask me to watch that.'

'Then stay here,' Elissa replied dismissively, pulling her arm free. 'Daylen is right; this is greater than you or I, Alistair. What will be the point of any of it if the Blight consumes us because you were too afraid of something that wasn't safe or easy?' She stepped back from him and turned back to Daylen. 'Where would you like us to start?'

The Grey Warden was almost certain he stood their gaping at what he had just witnessed. He snapped his mouth shut as Elissa spoke to him. 'Perhaps you could speak to Zathrian's First, Lanaya?' he said before issuing instructions to the rest of the group as to what they could do.

Elissa nodded curtly before turning on her heel, pointedly ignoring her husband's baleful glare. She ran her hands through her hair; it was the first time in their marriage that he had tried to step on her toes and while she felt she had a right to stand up for herself, it was complicated by the fact that Alistair was not just her husband, but the King of Ferelden. Whether she liked it or not, he did have the authority to order her down should he desire to make his request an order; despite being his Queen, she was ultimately subordinate to him. As annoyed as she was with his over-protectiveness, she knew that he was not doing it simply to control her, but because he loved her and wanted to protect her from harm. It wasn't like he viewed her as incapable or as some sort of royal brood mare or token to enhance his own power, as so many of the sons of the Bannorn had viewed her; he was simply concerned for her well-being, especially after the injuries she had suffered at Ostagar. After enjoying a high degree of independence prior to their marriage, it grated that she might have to submit to the will of her husband. Perhaps she ought to cut him some slack, but at the moment, in the heat of her anger, she could not find it within herself to back down. She rubbed her head and sighed before applying herself to speaking with Lanaya.

_Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine, Ferelden.  
_  
'My lady, your father has arrived,' said Varel from the doorway to Delilah's quarters.

The young woman rose and nodded her head with all the gravity of a woman being sentenced to the hangman's noose; her excursion to the Waking Sea had not gone unreported to her father. Delilah had donned her best gown, and while she had openly exhibited the evidence of her brother's assault to Bann Alfstanna, she carefully hid it now. Her father would not show her any sympathy.

Rendon Howe was sat in the great hall, upon his 'Throne' as she entered. He looked up before he waved his guards away. Delilah was not certain if this was a good thing or not; her father's moods had become increasingly mercurial over the years. In spite of her fears, she did not allow herself to falter as she walked the length of the room, well aware that he would detect any sign of weakness. She curtseyed to her father and he smiled; not a warm smile that had once adorned his face, this was cold, hard and false.

'How was your trip to the Waking Sea? I trust Alfstanna is well?' he asked her pleasantly enough.

'She is as well as can be expected after the slaying of her kin,' Delilah replied evenly.

Delilah did not tell her father that she had left the Bann of Waking Sea organising her small battalion of men in case she was called upon to assist her royal cousin. She most certainly did not tell him that given half the chance, Bann Alfstanna planned to dismember him for his crimes against her family.

'But do you think she will yield?' asked Howe. 'For one so young, she commands a lot of respect in her demesne.'

'She is a fine leader,' said Delilah noncommittally. 'We did not discuss politics; I took it upon myself to visit her with my condolences for her lost kin.' Fury sparked in her father's cold eyes. 'You'll recall, of course, given how pleased you claimed to be at the time, that myself and Bann Alfstanna acted as maids-in-waiting for the Princess on her wedding day. Alfstanna has always been close to Her Highness.'

Howe stood up very slowly, his stance almost that of an animal hunting prey. 'I think you should consider your position here very carefully, young Lady.'

Delilah met his gaze with one of her own, the one it was said reminded all of her late mother. 'She was my friend, father,' said Delilah. 'I grew up with her. Teryn Cousland's friendship might have meant nothing to you, but Elissa's friendship meant something to me.'

'And it seems you have picked up something of her nature,' he said. 'Pity really, because marrying you off will be difficult. Men want biddable wives, not disobedient girls who defy their fathers.' He stepped off the dais right up to his daughter where he took a hold of his face between his fingers, pinching painfully on her bruised cheek. 'I have to return to Denerim on the morrow. You will be coming with me and while we are there, you will be contemplating your prospects for the future. Do I make myself clear?'

She nodded her head. Howe pushed his daughter away into the unlit brazier that stood in the middle of the room. Delilah leant against it breathing heavily as she watched the man who wore the face of her father but no longer seemed to be her father walk away. At least in Denerim she would hear more accurate news but she sacrificed her ability to help Elissa should Thomas find her and bring her to the Keep. She would have to ensure that Varel knew what to do should that happen.

_The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden.  
_  
'Are you going to apologise to her?' Kallian asked Daylen as the fire died down.

The group had decided to camp away from the main settlement of the Dalish, but still within the area that seemed to be protected from the haunted forest beyond. Tempers were strained as Elissa refused to relinquish her bad mood, having eventually removed herself from their company entirely. Kallian had seen the Queen of Ferelden climb up one of the nearby trees and was currently perched on a thick branch about the third of the way up. Cassius was lying at the foot of the tree unable to follow his mistress but the message was clear; no one, and that included Alistair, was going to get near her.

'"I was beginning to think you were more than some pampered noble, but that is all you are,"' Kallian quoted. 'It was a bit unfair.'

'When I get a moment,' said Daylen, 'but it isn't my apology she wants.'

Kallian's gazed moved from the tree to where Alistair was currently sparring with Sten, Leliana, and Zevran. He had asked Kallian to join them but she had forgone the session so she could speak with Daylen alone while Wynne and Morrigan argued over the nature of the curse afflicted on the elves. However, something niggled on her mind about what Daylen had said earlier in the day and so she had joined him instead of putting her strength to the test with Leliana and the men.

'You mentioned the Archdemon,' said Kallian. 'How do you know such things about it?'

Daylen put his head in his hands; he remembered speaking of the single mindedness that occasionally threatened to consume him, the call of the demon hidden Maker knew where in the accursed Deep Roads. He hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the others had no idea what it was that he felt every day. He needed to keep fighting, to find goals because some days, the Taint and the song was so strong that he was caught between rushing into the nearest group of darkspawn to end it and wanting to submit to the song and join them.

'I can't tell you,' said Daylen. 'It is my burden to bear.'

'It doesn't have to be,' replied Kallian quietly. 'I could, you know, help. It's not like I have much to live for once this is over.'

Daylen looked up at Kallian's sad tone of voice. 'Don't you have family or friends in the Alienage?'

She nodded. 'I do, but I don't really think I could go back after what I did,' she told him quietly. 'I should have killed the bastard, but instead I walked away and I left my cousin at his mercy. I should have protected her, but I looked at her and turned away, running for the exit with coin and the promise of freedom. What sort of person does that?'

'A scared one,' replied Daylen. 'So it's true? You killed all those men?'

'I killed every one of them that stood between me and Shianni,' she replied. 'I watched them kill my betrothed on my wedding day, but when I came face to face with Kendells, I let him convince me that if I left Shianni, he'd let me walk away with enough money to start again away from Denerim.' Her voice was angry and bitter. 'But, of course, he was lying.'

Daylen chuckled deeply under her breath. 'It does strike me as odd you would be foolish enough to fall for such a thing.'

'I didn't want to die,' she said, admitting the truth that had been gnawing away at her, 'and that thought was cold comfort while I waited to go to the gallows.'

'Why did Elissa save you?' asked Daylen.

Kallian looked back to where the Queen of Ferelden was whittling some new arrows in solitude. At the time of her escape, Kallian had asked her saviour why she was helping her, but the noblewoman had refused to answer as they made their escape from the confines of Fort Drakon. Before she departed to return to the palace, Elissa's only instructions had been to meet her at the fork in the road where the north and south roads parted two miles from the city gates an hour after sunrise. Kallian had not pressed the matter, lest Elissa find reason to reconsider her act of mercy.

'I still don't know,' said Kallian. 'I'm certainly not stupid enough to think it was for my winning personality nor for my work record. I'm a terrible personal maid but the job was too good for someone like me to pass up.' She smiled as she remembered a few of her mishaps, yet it was the other servants around her that were more concerned than Elissa ever was by her mistakes. Kallian had enjoyed working for her, in both Denerim and Highever. 'I wanted to be a warrior like my mother was. She fought for King Maric in the rebellion against the Orlesian Occupation and she taught me how to fight when she could.'

'I wondered where you learnt from, given that elves are not usually allowed to bear arms,' said Daylen. 'Alistair has mentioned you are quite the formidable force, particularly for an elf.'

'I had a dagger and sword,' she said, 'given to me by my mother, but I left them with my father before I left Denerim. My mother hid them when the Arl of Denerim decided to reinforce the ban after the end of the Occupation.' She turned to look at Daylen. 'I know I may not know what it is I truly ask, and Elissa seems to think you pay a heavy price for being a Warden, but I've given it some thought, and if you'll have me I'd like to be a Grey Warden?'

'No,' he said firmly.

Knowing what he knew about being a Warden, he didn't think he could even put his worst enemy through it. Every aspect of his life as a Warden appeared to be knitted together to form one long nightmare, from the moment he heard that thief die to this moment, he had been forced into a violent haze where his own being was tested to levels that could make even the strongest of men weep for respite. Were it not for his companions, he feared he would lose himself and now one of his companions wanted to submit themselves to the very Taint that consumed him. It seemed like such a foolish notion.

'Is there any point in asking you why?' she asked him.

'No.'


	19. The Heart of the Forest IV

_I know I always thank my beta, Darkly Tranquil, but he is owed double thanks for rewriting battle scene with the Revenant. Fighting scenes is not one of my strong points, hence I try to avoid them like the plague, but sometimes they are needed. Also extra thanks on top of that for picking his way through this minefield of a chapter, which I stupidly edited under the influence of drugs – not recreational drugs you understand, there was this whole thing with a car crash last week and it turns out diazepam and codine are a pretty potent mix. _

_18th Firstfall, 9:30  
The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden._

The Dalish were early risers, up before dawn to go about their business among the camp and largely ignoring the human interlopers in their midst. Elissa could not help but think they could show a little gratitude given that a good part of her wanted to turn her back on the whole thing and find someone else who would help them. Based on her limited interactions with the Dalish Keeper and his First, Elissa had come to the conclusion that Daylen was right; the elves were keeping something from them. All Elissa had gotten from Lanaya was that Zathrian was the longest lived Keeper in Thedas, rumoured to have found the secret to the eternal life that elves had once been blessed with. Elissa didn't believe it for one second; if he had found the secret why had he not shared this knowledge with his clan or other Keepers? The elves were forever seeking links to their history and persevering all they could from their glory days in Arlathan. In truth, there seemed to be little that added up about this whole situation but Daylen would not budge on the issue of pursuing the treaty.

Beside her, Cassius looked up and growled at the elf who was walking over. For reasons Elissa was unable to fathom, the mabari had taken an immediate and intense dislike to Zathrian. However, she deemed it good enough reason to be distrustful; her faithful hound was particular in his prejudices and was not aggressive unless there was due cause for it.

Dubious as she was about the Keeper, she still stood to greet him giving her dog a warning glance. He immediately asked to speak to the Warden and she tried not to be slightly put out about that, reminding herself that it was the Grey Warden's business.

'He is resting,' she explained. 'Perhaps I can help?'

While Zathrian was polite as he explained that he had arranged for the group to have additional supplies, the Keeper regarded Elissa as warily she regarded him. He was curt as he made his excuses to leave but Elissa found herself watching him as he walked away wondering if she should step back and not track the werewolves. Had she not caused a rift between herself and Alistair she would back down, but they had not resolved their disagreement. The hair on the back of her neck rose in icy cold trepidation as she looked out into the forest, watching the swirling mists that seem to push up against an invisible barrier put in place by the Keeper. Cassius whined as he put his head back in her lap; it was clearly a protest about them going into the forest alone.

'Yeah,' she said softly to the hound, scratching his ears. 'I know.'

-…-

It was not long after they had broken their fast that Elissa led the group out of the camp and into the forest beyond. Daylen had managed to negotiate leaving the bulk of their belongings, including Calian's damaged Armour, in the camp so they could move quickly through the dense forest. Each of them carried a few days' supply of food, their bedrolls and blankets. Morrigan made some snide remark about Alistair joining them after his spat with Elissa to which he dryly informed her that if she thought he was going to leave Elissa without protection from her, she could think again. Clearly he was still irritable from his part in their disagreement so Elissa let it pass without comment, reminding herself that her actions had precipitated their disagreement in the first place. She knew she would need to speak to him, however she had already been limbering up to trek through the forest when he had woken up and she did not want to have the discussion in full view of everyone, particularly when it involved her backing down and apologising for her behaviour.

Daylen spoke with the Keeper before they left, bringing back the supplies and relaying to the group the need to watch for the white wolves that would stalk them just on the edges of their perception. The last thing anyone needed was the feeling of being hunted from all angles by the malevolent forest. The whole mission had better be worth it, Elissa speculated as she headed out into the forest with Cassius on her heels, Morrigan above her in crow form and not a word from Alistair to be careful. It didn't feel like an auspicious start to the day

The morning did not improve as the sun rose to its low winter zenith. There were no white wolves lingering on the edge of her awareness and thus far the only thing she had tracked was a large bear that Cassius had mangled beyond salvaging. She couldn't even carve a good steak off it after the mauling the warhound had given it in the name of protecting his mistress. The dog had been more diligent in his primary task of protecting her since the sacking of Highever, but since entering the forest Cassius had become even more zealous in his desire to protect her from harm particularly when they were separated from Alistair. Elissa stood in a clearing above the bear's lair and looked around, blowing a sweat drenched lock of hair from her face with a puff of breath as she contemplated her next course of action.

From the canopy above, Morrigan hopped down, transforming into human form when she hit the ground. 'The path ahead is empty. Tis a worthless cause is you asked me.'

Elissa rested her hands on her hips. 'It's only been a few hours,' she pointed out reasonably before she drew a skinning knife from its sheath and scratched a rune in the bark of a large tree. She clicked her tongue in frustration before looking around. The forest was far too quiet, even the bear seemed subdued but Elissa attributed that to the fact that the bear had clearly woken from its hibernation for some reason – the Taint spreading through the forest was a likely cause to the animal's disrupted winter. She looked back at Morrigan. 'What do you make of this place?'

The witch shrugged. 'It is not like any place I have been to before,' she said, her amber eyes looking around distrustfully. 'I know they say the Veil is thin here and spirits wander freely but, I wonder if there is more to it than that. Whatever it is, I do not like it.'

Elissa scratched at her hair line at the base of her neck, tangling her hair in her fingers. She instinctively felt the validity of Morrigan's assessment; the whole forest seemed eerily bereft of life and activity, as if all the living creatures that could flee had departed to escape the pall that hung over the place. The Brecilian felt so unlike the forests around Highever; even in the the dead of winter those forests had filled her with curiosity and wonder. There was a natural magic to the way frost would cling to a tree, or the intricate strands of silk of a spiders web. Even she could overlook her fear of spiders to look at the frost covered webs and appreciate their design. It was a truly marvellous thing to observe. There was none of that here. It was cold enough for a frost to cover the ground, but it did not sparkle in the weak rays of light that managed to penetrated the bare canopy.

It didn't help that the Taint was starting to spread, not into the forest from the Wilds to the west, but from within the forest itself. Morrigan had reported that they were traveling close to a marauding band of darkspawn; they were a good mile or so away from them and they were travelling in a different direction, and she had sent Morrigan back to warn Daylen of their proximity, but the darkspawn had not ventured near them.

'No,' Elissa agreed. 'I do not like it either.' She cast a glance around before deciding on a path that led up a hill towards some a couple of large elfroot bushes. 'I'd like a bit of company for a while, if you will?'

'You think your Templar will mind?'

'You think he gets a say?' she asked her eliciting a smirk from the witch.

The climbed the small hill and Elissa started collecting what remained of the elfroot leaves that where a healthy shade of green so that Wynne could make some more of her healing balms. During her youth Elissa used to gather the medicinal herbs for Aldous, the family's household scholar, and he would prepare a range of balms and herbal remedies for minor ailments that did not warrant the attention of a mage. She sighed internally at the thought that Aldous, with all his wisdom, was gone. His life and knowledge wasted for the ambitions of greedy men.

'Why are you not afraid of me?' Morrigan asked.

Elissa looked up from her work, surprised at the abrupt question; she did not think that the witch cared much for what people thought of her. 'Because I have a Templar I can hide behind if you turn on me,' she said drily. The witch's mouth thinned at the remark. 'I don't know,' she said honestly. 'I've never seen magic like yours and yet…' she shrugged. 'Should I be afraid of you? Alistair and Daylen tell me I should be wary.'

'They are both Chantry guided fools,' said Morrigan, 'who do not understand that some magics are beyond the realm of the Chantry. Tis why they fear it.'

'How do you do it?' Elissa asked.

Morrigan smiled. 'Why is it something you would wish to learn?'

'Maybe not, but it is fascinating,' she replied. 'Besides, I assume you need magic to achieve the change.'

'You assume correctly,' said Morrigan. 'In truth, it is a matter of study, of observing and learning the nature of the beast you wish to mimic. Tis not easy to achieve and not all who have magic have the aptitude to learn it. Those Circle fools for all their learning know nothing of the true power that runs in their veins and the connection it has to the Fade and the earth around them.' Morrigan seemed to consider her as if looking through her. 'Where you a mage, I would teach you; you know the earth and understand the power of nature.'

Elissa frowned at the implications of Morrigan's words, but the witch chose that moment to return to her crow form and take flight before Elissa could make further comment. Elissa watched after her before carving another rune in a nearby tree and whistling for Cassius, pushing further into the forest that held more danger in what lurked out of view.

-…-

It was just over an hour later when Morrigan returned, landing nimbly and returning to her human form in the same moment. 'You should tread carefully, you're being hunted.'

'Werewolves?'

Morrigan nodded. 'Several.'

Elissa glanced around the trees, they were hidden from sight but she thought she could sense something on the edges of her perception. A lingering unnaturalness that was in a place it should not have been, not dissimilar to the cursed elves at the camp. She bit her lip, assessing her options should the werewolves attack her. With only Cassius and Morrigan for protection, Elissa knew she would be hideously overwhelmed by one of the creatures let alone several.

'We wait,' she decided, looking at the branches of the nearby trees. 'Do you think werewolves can climb?' Morrigan shrugged as the younger woman jumped to reach a lower branch of a sturdy looking tree. 'Soon find out.'

She climbed high enough to give herself a pretty good view of the surrounding area. With any luck, she could not be easily ambushed from up here and even if the werewolves could climb, she'd be able to get a few shots off and even draw her sword before they got to her. It left Cassius vulnerable, but that could not be helped, besides he was all fierce Marbari warhound. With any luck he'd be able to hold his own, but she was doubtful of his overall survival should they be attacked.

To her immense relief, the voices of her companions reached Elissa a little over half an hour later. Cassius stood up and moved to the middle of the road, his stumpy tail wagging excitedly as the group came into view. He barked loudly before he started bounding around the tree that Elissa was perched in. She swung down gracefully, landing as Alistair reached the Marbari giving the dog some attention. The warhound had a soft spot for her husband, recognising the man as the person who had found him Elissa. She shook her head as Cassius rolled over as Alistair scratched his ears, the dog acting like a pampered Orlesian lap dog rather than the fierce warhound he was supposed to be.

'Morrigan says we're being hunted by several werewolves,' she explained when Cassius finally regained his dignity. 'We're being flanked on two sides.'

Alistair looked around and frowned, unable to see anything bar the swirling mists. 'Why haven't they attacked?'

Elissa shrugged. 'I don't rightly know. I'm not entirely sure where they are, they appear to be just out of sight even from up there.' She pointed to where she had been seated above them. 'I recommend we stick together for the time being and follow this path.'

She took point, leading them along the path; behind them the group were twitchy as every sound and movement around them set them on high alert. Elissa walked with her bow in hand, an arrow nocked to the string so she could draw quickly, not that it would make much difference if a pack of werewolves was flanking them; they could come from any direction. The path they were following eventually led them to a small but deep and fast flowing stream of cold, clear water. The group immediately took advantage of the find, hastily filling their water skins, all of them well aware that one never really knew when they might come across fresh water next. Satisfied that they were well stocked, they continued along the path in search of a place to cross. It would be too difficult to jump on account of the steep bank opposite. A more readily traversable crossing was not too far upstream, situated over a small lake with an island in the middle. The water was calmer here before it rushed off down steam through a series of rapids. From the eaves, Morrigan hoped down transforming into her human state.

'We should be wary, they approach,' she said referring the werewolves. 'This is not what we anticipated.'

Elissa frowned but before anyone could make further remark ten werewolves seemed to materialise from the mists of the forest. Perhaps that was why Elissa could not see them before; was it possible the forest was protecting these savage beasts, giving them a terrifying advantage over them and the elves? She didn't want to believe it was true, but it would certainly explain part of the mystical interference she had been feeling since entering the forest a week ago. The werewolves were colossal beasts topping seven foot in height with the leader, a white haired beast, being even taller. They did not cross the water to the island, but the leader gazed at Elissa intently, his amber eyes speaking of a sentience that Zathrian had said was not possible. She raised her bow, drawing tension on the string and moving to take aim.

'Go back,' rasped the leader. 'You meddle in things you do not understand.'

She lowered her bow in surprise; the creature could speak. 'Zathrian told us you were naught but savage beasts, how is it you can speak?'

'Zathrian hasn't told you a great many things, human,' replied the werewolf derisively.

'Like what?' asked Daylen.

'It is none of your concern,' he growled in return. 'Turn back.'

'We can't,' said Elissa. 'We have sworn to end the curse on the elves, but we do not wish to fight you. Perhaps you will parley?'

The white werewolf gnashed his teeth and tossed his head, the hackles down his back rising putting Cassius on alert. Though the warhound was dwarfed by the werewolf, Cassius let an equally loud growl rip from this throat in reply.

'You are sent by the treacherous Dalish to kill Witherfang! I will not stand by and allow that to happen!' he growled, snapping at Elissa. 'Turn back; this is your only warning. If you continue to try and find Witherfang we will kill you.'

A growl rumbled deep in the white werewolf's throat before he howled loudly, a violent sound that indicated that he meant the threat and then his companions howled, answering their leaders command. As quickly as they appeared, they melted back into the fog surrounding them, leaving Elissa none the wiser as to where they had actually come from. There were no tracks to mark where they had come from, nor where they were going, it was as if they had simply vanished.

'Tis most odd,' Morrigan remarked as she examined the ground where the werewolf tracks should have been. Her golden gaze skipped over the trees. 'It seems the forest hides them when we look for them, but reveal them to me when I take animal form.'

The whole group looked out into the foreboding depths of the dark forest as the thick swirling fog began to curl and gather around the trees that surrounded them in menacing fashion. It was clear that whatever forces inhabited the forest were also moving to protect Witherfang.

Elissa turned to Morrigan, fighting off the urge to do as the werewolf bid and walk away. 'We should keep moving.'

-…-

'Do you feel that?' Daylen asked Alistair as they trekked up a hill, following Elissa's runes after their encounter with the werewolf. 'Old magic.'

Alistair paused and focused for a moment, using the abilities he had obtained in the Chantry. Seeking out magic was a difficult discipline to master, and he didn't count himself as particularly good at it but there was no missing the magical beacon. He frowned. 'I don't like it,' he said.

Disregarding Alistair's apprehension, Daylen had already moved off into the undergrowth. Wynne frowned after the man. 'Is this wise?' she asked, 'what if we lose our way?'

'I'm sure Morrigan will be able to find us,' Daylen called back, 'and besides it might be what is causing this infernal fog.'

'It is worthy of investigation,' said Zevran. 'Who knows, if it doesn't not stop this fog, it might yield treasure instead.'

'Is that all you think about?' asked Kallian shortly, clearly irritated by his flippant attitude.

'No,' replied Zevran, his voice one of mock affront. 'I prefer to spend my time thinking of bosoms. Wynne has a particularly nice pair and Leliana perhaps... No offensive Kallian, but I like a more well-rounded woman?

Leliana turned on the Antivan elf. 'I want nothing to do with your lurid fantasies.'

'Pity,' said Zevran with a melodramatic sigh. 'I thought you'd be more willing, what with your Orlesian proclivities.'

Daylen turned back to those lagging behind, he was only a few feet ahead but it seemed he was being swallowed by the mists. 'Do you think we could focus for a moment and leave discussing bosoms for when we can all enjoy the subject?'

Zevran chuckled. 'Yes, it is a subject that brings great pleasure; we should be able to enjoy it. It is a great pity that with so many women amongst us, only one of us may enjoy them instead of just think about them.' Alistair scowled at the elf, who chuckled. 'I mean it as a compliment, your Lady is a fine woman and I find myself most jealous.'

They moved into the undergrowth following Daylen, struggling to see through the thick fog that pressed in on all sides. It seemed more threatening off the beaten track, closing in around them while it felt as if something watched them from beyond. Alistair reminded himself that something probably was watching; a presence from the Fade perhaps, or more werewolves assessing them just out of sight. As a precaution, he adjusted his grip on his shield and drew his sword. He wasn't the only one getting ready for a fight; Zevran was holding his daggers while Leliana nocked an arrow ready for action.

It didn't take long for Daylen to find the source of the magic that had piqued his senses. They emerged from the fog to find themselves face to face with a small collection of overgrown graves that had almost been lost to the forest. The small head stones were worn with age and draped with growths of moss and ivy.

'It looks Tevinter in origin,' said Sten. 'We should leave it be.'

Daylen walked up to the grave before crouching down in front of it. 'There's something here, in this world and the Fade, it must be ancient. Alistair?'

He joined the mage, also crouching down before reaching out to push the moss from the stone. 'Maker's breath,' he said before he looked around. 'Makes you wonder how old this place is. I studied a bit of this in the Chantry; it is far older than I'd have expected. Not that I'm an expert on these things.'

'Does it say anything?' asked Daylen.

'I don't recommend reading it allowed,' cautioned Sten. 'Magisters use all sorts of trick to lure the unsuspecting into traps.'

'I have to say I'm with our formidable friend on this one,' said Zevran. 'In fact, I rather like the fog.'

Daylen shook his head. 'We can't leave this here,' he said, 'otherwise the unsuspecting will be lured here and Maker only knows what they will unleash. It is best we deal with it.'

Kallian drew her daggers. 'If you think it best,' she said, moving to a flank the graves as Zevran retreated back into the shadows.

Sten sighed, but pulled the greatsword from over his shoulder. 'If this goes badly, do not say I did not warn you.'

Daylen turned to Alistair. 'Okay, read it out.'

Alistair reached out to push more of the moss aside as he began to channel a Holy Smite; if whatever was here was in the Fade as well, then they would need the strongest form of anti-magic attack he could offer. He read the Arcanum words slowly, sounding them out carefully. Although his Chantry education had brought him into contact with the language of the old Imperium and he had seen some of their manuscripts in the libraries, he was not overtly familiar pronouncing the words. Beside him, Daylen backed away but Alistair didn't have that luxury as he finished the passage.

Around them, everything went still, the swaying branches stopped moving and heaviness descended on them before they were hurled backwards by some unseen force and thrown to the ground. Alistair crashed to the ground with a painful thud, and when he looked up a huge dark figure emerged from the grave. Encased in ancient heavy plate armour and swathed in voluminous dark robes that seemed to devour light, the Revenant rose to its full imposing height above Alistair's prone position, its sword poised to strike. The demon brought the dark, obsidian blade down in an arc towards Alistair's chest. Trapped as he was in a prone position, he had no choice but to raise his shield and hope that it would absorb the blow. The Revenent's enormous blade collided with the shield with a dull clang that reverberated through Alistair's entire body and left a sizable dent in metal of the shield. As the Revenent draw back to deliver another punishing blow, it was suddenly encased in a shell of ice courtesy of Daylen's magic. Taking advantage of the momentary reprieve, Alistair rolled away from the creature and got to his feet.

The spell they had triggered had not only raised the Revenent they were battling, but also a number of other corpses that now surrounded them. It was certainly a trap and Alistair vaguely wondered how many people had lost their lives at these stones; perhaps they were even fighting some of them. He unleashed a Holy Smite on the Revenent before directing Leliana to puncture it with as many arrows as she could. While the arrows might not significantly injure the creature, they might at least serve to hinder its movements. Although the Chantry Sister was good with her bow, he could not help but wish Elissa were here; her ability to accurately place her arrows for maximum effect would have been invaluable against so powerful an opponent. Nonetheless, Leliana set to the task with gusto, drawing and firing as quickly as she could, sinking shaft after shaft into the torso and arms of the monster. As Alistair deflected another hammering blow from the Revenent, Wynne produced a powerful fist of rock, hurling it at the creature, while Zevran dashed out of the shadows to dispatch a heavily armed corpse that was advancing on Leliana from her blindside.

While the others were doing battle with the Revenent, Kallian focused her attention on the lesser undead that swarmed around them. She danced gracefully among the slow, clumsy creatures, dodging and weaving around their ponderous blows and delivering swift and deadly ripostes of her own. Moving effortlessly through the press of desiccated bodies, she found herself face to face with an undead spell-caster that raised its hands to strike her down. But before it had a chance to fully gather its energies to attack, Kallian drove her dagger up under its ragged chin and straight into the skull. The body immediately crumpled to the ground, the magic empowering it having been dispersed by the blow. Kallian then turned to see that Zevran and Sten had taken care of the remaining corpses, leaving only the Revenent that was still pounding away at Alistair's shield while Daylen and Wynne threw spells at it. Without hesitation, the young elf threw herself into the fray with a fierce war cry.

In the end, the battle was hard won; the centuries old demon was incredibly powerful and absurdly difficult to kill. By the time Zevran leapt from the branches to deliver the death blow, his daggers finding a home between the Revenent's shoulder blades, Alistair was so exhausted he could barely hold his mangled shield aloft a moment longer. The Revenent finally yielded to the inevitable, collapsing to the ground and disintegrating into dust as it hit the hard, frozen earth. The moment the creature fell, the oppressive heaviness in the air lifted, allowing the fighters to finally catch their breath. Alistair pushed his hair from his eyes as he crouched down to examine the remains of their vanquished foe. There was a pile of rags and something glinting in weak light that caught his attention.

'Here, what's this?' he asked, reaching out to pick up a token, slightly larger than a coin. He thumbed the surface, looking at the strange design. 'I've never seen the like.'

The group shrugged and generally indicated that they were as confused as he. He pocketed it so he could examine it later before looking back in the direction they had come. Although the heaviness of the air had gone, the mists still curled menacingly around them. 'We should head back.'

-…-

Elissa kept just out of sight as she tracked the lone werewolf. It appeared to be lame as it hobbled along the path alone, but after seeing the human-like intelligence of the white werewolf that appeared to be the leader, Elissa found herself reassessing what these beasts were capable of; this could easily be some kind of trap. The white-furred leader of the werewolves had made it perfectly clear that they would show no mercy if she continued deeper into the forest. Yet this was odd, there was a human mannerism in the creature's actions that had not been present in the earlier encounter; it seemed to be pawing a scarf in a distinctly regretful manner. Elissa could see no reason for the werewolf to do such a thing if it was merely a trap.

Still it was best to just leave it alone. If the werewolf turned out to be at full strength she would be overwhelmed as Morrigan was nowhere in sight. The witch was scouting the whereabouts of the other werewolves, having discovered that when she took on animal form the forest did not recognise her as a human intruder, allowing her to track the beasts unhindered. Elissa began to move, her footsteps silent on the ground as she began to retreat. She stepped backwards, her foot landing on a dry twig that audibly snapped.

Everything came to a standstill as the crack echoed around the woods; Elissa held her breath as the werewolf paused, its animalistic yellow eyes moving to the bush she was hidden behind. It growled, but it was not an angry growl more a whine. 'Help,' the werewolf rasped. 'Help me.'

Elissa could feel her heart banging against her rib cage. There was a forlorn look in the wolf's eyes that Cassius occasionally got when he had been chastised. She looked at her hound, on alert but following her attempts to be silent.

'Please, I'm not like,' it rasped, choking on its words, 'I'm not like the others.'

Elissa was torn between wanting to run and wanting to help.

'I was an elf before, my name was… is Danyla,' the werewolf continued. 'I just want to get a message back to Athras before… before it's too late.'

'Athras? The hunter in Zathrian's clan?' Elissa called back.

'Yes,' rasped Danyla. 'I want him to have, this.' Danyla held out the scarf she had been pawing.

Elissa looked at the werewolf from her hiding space, that look in her eyes was strangely reminiscent of Eleanor Cousland's face when she had looked down at her husband dying on the floor. The ache at being separated from her life's partner was deep in Danyla's eyes as she fought to retain her sapience as the curse raged through her blood, the transformation almost complete.

It was against her better judgement, but Elissa moved, emerging from the bush, Cassius at her heel. She didn't lower her bow as she approached the elf-turned-werewolf. Wary that the creature could turn on her at any moment, Elissa remained as far back as she could as she reached out to take possession of the scarf, 'I will make sure he gets it.'

'Tell him…' said Danyla, the words dying to a growl.

Cassius began to bark angrily and he moved to interpose himself between the werewolf and his mistress. Sensing the change in the creature and her hound's reaction to it, Elissa began to back away. The werewolf's body language changed perceptibly from supplication to aggression as it began to stalk towards her, all remaining vestiges of sapience now fled from its yellow eyes. Maker curse her, it was just her luck that the moment she revealed herself the werewolf would finish the transformation. Elissa pulled her bowstring back as far as she could letting lose an arrow that plunged into the werewolf's shoulder. At least they did not seem to have some form of thick magical pelt that repelled arrows.

The werewolf howled, a deathly sound that echoed around the glade surely attracting the attention of any nearby werewolves, and also, hopefully, her companions. She would not survive an attack from more than one werewolf, and she seriously doubted whether she could hold off just the one. Then it made its move; there was no intelligence in the decision to lunge, it was purely animalistic instinct that now drove Danyla. Now the creature was moving for her there was no way she had time to nock another arrow and take aim. Elissa cast aside her bow, drawing her sword and dagger, and preparing herself for the fight of her life.

Elissa moved to defend herself, but she was no match for the size and power of the werewolf bearing down on her. She crashed to the ground under the beast as it pounced on her, only just managing to bring her blades up in time to fend off the slashing claws. Cassius, seeing his mistress go down under the werewolf's assault immediately launched himself into the fray, sinking his sharp fangs into the beast's exposed flank. The warhound's attack caused the werewolf to roar in pain, rearing up and sending the courageous hound tumbling back into the undergrowth. But he was not to be deterred and with a ferocious growl, Cassius pounced again, sinking his sharp fangs into the werewolf once more. Elissa grappled desperately with the beast, using her blades to keep its claws at bay, she managed to find and opening and plunged her dagger to the hilt between the werewolf's ribs. The wound she inflicted appeared to have no effect save to drive the creature into a frenzy of wildly slashing claws and snapping jaws. One long claw raked her face, opening a cut right across her cheek from her nose to her ear. She cried out in pain and outrage, fear induced adrenaline giving her the strength to smash the pommel of her sword into the beast's muzzle, stunning it momentarily.

Meanwhile, Cassius had managed to climb further up the back of werewolf, and he bit deeply into the throat of the werewolf, savagely pulling and tugging until the werewolf recognised the Marbari as the threat and not Elissa. It reared, giving Elissa the opportunity she needed to twist and clamber free as the werewolf threw Cassius off. However, before she could get too far, the werewolf attacked again, slamming her to the ground face first. This time she had no chance to defend herself and she could only scream, crying in agony as the werewolf's claws tore into her back, ripping and shredding skin and muscle alike. She cried out again thinking, this was it, it's all over. As the fangs of the werewolf bit down on her shoulder, Elissa screamed before she lost all consciousness and slumped prone to the ground.

_Denerim, Ferelden  
_  
Maryn had been rewarded for his services to the Crown. For betraying his King, Maryn had been given position as a guard to Queen Anora. He had considered rejecting the offer, but Imeric had convinced him otherwise and told him how he could use the position to aid King Alistair instead. Sitting hunched in a small booth in a dingy tavern owned by Imeric's cousin, and therefore safe for discussing the vigilante activities they plotted, Imeric had explained that as a guard he would be an unseen entity and that the nobility said all sorts of things in the presence of the staff. Maryn got the impression that Imeric was no stranger to this sort of thing. The steward to King Alistair shrugged when Maryn had questioned how much he knew so much giving him the enigmatic excuse of 'I know a few people.'

Maryn couldn't say he had learnt anything of importance relating to Loghain since taking up the role of Anora's bodyguard, but Howe was acting strangely. Maryn and Imeric were well aware that Howe had yet to inform Loghain and Anora that Elissa Theirin was still alive and he had taken off back to Amaranthine after discovering that his middle child had visited Queen Elissa's cousin, Bann Alfstanna. Of course, Rendon Howe had every reason to be jumpy, Imeric had surmised with a twisted smile because if half the rumours where true about what happened at Highever then Howe would likely find himself impaled on King Alistair's sword before too long.

However, other than that, neither he nor Imeric had dug up any further nefarious activities, so Imeric was busy searching for a new way to put a spanner in Loghain's plans. Imeric's current scheme seemed to involve several more cousins and the posters that were to be handed to the guard with a likeness of Daylen Amell on them. Maryn had been slightly baffled when Imeric had strolled in with a pile of wanted posters, declaring that they were the linchpin of his plot.

The image of Daylen Amell was both unremarkable and bore little resemblance to the scarred Grey Warden he had seen in Lothering. That, according to Imeric, was the point. Loghain's description of the man had been rather detailed but Imeric had bribed the artist to miss certain details including the scars on his face when he completed the image for mass production. It appeared that Imeric had managed to get permission for this by presenting Loghain with an image that matched the correct specification before presenting the men, his cousins no less, who were to replicate the picture with the plain one that was now on the posters before him.

Over complicated as the plan seemed, Maryn did agree there was little point in making it easy for the guards to arrest Daylen Amell. King Alistair had made the decision to trust the Grey Warden. When the other option was to trust a man who had killed one King, tried to kill another and then allied himself to the man that had murdered the new Queen's family, Maryn was certain he knew where he was going to put his trust.

Imeric clapped a hand on Maryn's shoulder. 'Just you wait til old Kylon realises we've had his boys on,' he said with a chuckle. 'Bloody priceless.'

Having encountered the thick head brutes that passed for guards in the city, many of them bastard born sons of the nobility, Maryn had to admit it would be fun to see them scratching their heads in confusion when they realised the Warden had slipped in and out of their midst. Maryn sat back in his seat. That he could drink to.

_Brecilian Forest, Ferelden.  
_  
Alistair was convinced the Maker must have been with him as he had found his way back to the path they had been following, but he was becoming increasingly concerned as the day began to fall into night with no sign of the Alamarri rules Elissa used to mark her trail. It had been hours since he had seen any sign of her and the worry settling into the pit of his stomach was beginning to evolve into an abject fear that something terrible had happened to his wife. He tried to assure himself that she had simply become completely engrossed in her task and that she would appear a bit later on none the worse for wear. In Highever, it had not been unusual for her to be gone until well past dusk. He soon learned not to worry, but the thought did little to absolve his trepidation; Highever was not crawling with werewolves or darkspawn. In spite of his growing fear, the rational part of him knew that he could not simply go barging off into the forest to look for her as that would only result in him also becoming lost. As much as it galled him, he knew that his only real choice was to hope she returned soon and to wait for daylight if she did not.

Everyone was subdued as they ate dinner, all jumping when they heard the rustle of leaves around them, expecting Cassius to bound into a view followed by Elissa, but she did not appear. Alistair ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of anxiety and frustration before suddenly rising to his feet and heading for his pack.

'You can't,' said Daylen, standing up to stop the King from walking out into the dark forest. 'You are still drained from the battle with the Revenant. What use will you be?'

'It's better than sitting here and just waiting,' he ground back.

Daylen dropped his voice so that none of the others would be able to overhear. 'I know it must be hard, but you are the one who said she knew what she was doing in the forest.'

'Yes, when it came to tracking the Dalish, not werewolves,' answered Alistair in a growl as he struggled to keep his temper under control. 'After we saw that one that could talk we should have stuck together but instead she is out there alone. Maker forbid, she might even be dead.'

Daylen rubbed his forehead, because Alistair was right. The group should have remained together after encountering the sentient werewolf by the river, but he hadn't even though about the consequences of the threat as Elissa and Morrigan had vanished further into the forest. 'I'm sorry, but unless you are willing to take a Lyrium potion you are no good to anyone, least of all your wife.'

Alistair had to agree he was drained from the battle with the Revenant to the point that Wynne had offered him one of her Lyrium potions. He had politely declined not wanting to go down that road again after Redcliffe. But now he wondered at that wisdom as he thought about Elissa, worrying where she was and what state she was in. He was supposed to protect her and keep her safe whether she liked it or not. He should have put his foot down on the matter, because while he didn't want to control her, running head long into dangerous situations were not what he had in mind when they had left Redcliffe together. Beautiful and reckless as she was, Alistair needed Elissa alive, unsure that he could face his difficult future without her support. Alistair sighed and walked back to where he had put his bedroll and sat down again trying to ignore the agitation that coursed through him.

What if he never saw her again, he though, his mind twisted through the worst case scenarios. Any number of things could be lurking in the woods and as she had seemingly disappeared without a trace, only the Maker knew what had become of her. How many more times could he strike lucky when it came to Elissa's survival? By all rights she should have died in Highever and it was only because of Kallian, who was currently pacing in her own state of agitation, that Elissa had been saved that night.

Above them there was a loud disturbance among the undergrowth. Everyone turned, as they had done with every other time and this time something did come through the brush. A giant bear loomed above them, rearing on its hide legs. Everyone grabbed their arms, but the bear suddenly shrunk down into the slender form of Morrigan.

'So this is where you got to,' she said looking around their campsite disinterestedly. She appeared as drained and as concerned as the others as she stepped closer to the light of the campfire. 'I have been searching for hours. T'would seem that Elissa has gotten herself lost. I have not seen evidence of her for hours.'

With a new direction to channel his anger, Alistair turned on the witch. 'Why were you not with her?' he demanded

'I was scouting the location of the werewolves, hoping to find some clue as to where they were headed. It seems I can see them when I take animal form,' bit back the witch. 'Elissa was not far behind me but when I went back to find her, I could not. I simply thought she had tracked back to find you. When I could not find her from the skies, I took another form to search for her. I have been unsuccessful and even I cannot search in the dark.'

'Is it possible she got turned around?' asked Leliana. 'I have heard of search things in forests as these.'

Morrigan nodded curtly. 'The trees have been creating paths for you to follow, leading you away from the centre of the forest. We are currently heading back towards the Dalish Camp.'

Daylen swore under his breath. 'Is it possible that Elissa is at the camp?'

'I have made a pass to the camp,' said Morrigan. 'She was not there.'

Alistair looked out into the gloom. 'We have to go and…'

'And what?' asked Daylen. 'Get ripped to shreds by werewolves? Or darkspawn?' He rubbed his temples trying to gather his thoughts before he looked up to address the group crowded around him. 'We have to rest tonight. Alistair you are too worn down to be useful to anyone. Wynne can you make up some healing supplies, we might need them if Elissa is injured. Morrigan, get some rest too, we'll need you to help us search come the morning.'

Rest did not come for easily for any in the camp, and as Alistair lay on his bedroll, he would have given anything to be the one on watch, but Daylen had insisted he rest after his draining battle with the Revenant. Even Alistair himself could not deny how exhausted he was from the bruising encounter and although sleep eventually found him, he prayed to the Maker that he would wake to find everything would be alright in the morning.


	20. The Heart of the Forest V

_19th Firstfall, 9:30  
The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden.  
_  
Time had come to a halt when the werewolf had bitten her, only for it to restart some hours later. For the barest second, the memory of the attack felt like it a horrific nightmare. Taking a moment to assess her condition, she became aware that she could not feel any pain from her injuries, but nor could she move. She opened her eyes to find herself enveloped in the mystical fog that had been troubling her all day. Then her body exploded in pain; it hit like lightening, snaking through her body as if she were being flayed alive. She screamed in agony, crying out for relief as her body spasmed, her hands clenched into the dirt from the pain. It felt like her whole body was turning in on itself, fighting some invisible foe that infiltrated through all her defences and attacked her from within. The sensation surged through her body as it fought back against the curse that had been transmitted to her; but she was just a delicate creature of mortal flesh, nothing compared to the power was coursing through her now. Tears slid down her face, stinging the gash on her cheek, as she opened her eyes and looked at the darkened landscape, cursing it and everything else in this Maker forsaken forest. She cried out as the pain overtook her once more, her body wracked with pain before she fell into darkness once again.

She woke again just as the sky was lightening beside a crackling fire that had far too many shades of red, orange and yellow, and jumped in sharp angles; where she once found warmth and comfort by a fire, it was now warning her to stay away, spitting harshly at her as it crackled away. Around her the wind sung a mournful song as it searched the trees for its missing spirit; a spirit that now resided in her heart, spreading out and changing her from woman to beast. The only thing that seemed comforting was the mist that swirled around her, calling out to her, entreating her to join them and beyond the mists she would find her place once the intruders were gone. That thought was nice until she forced herself to remember that those intruders were her friends and Alistair. The thought of her husband made her heart ache; they had parted on bad terms the morning before and now she might never get the chance to make amends. Through and effort of will Elissa closed herself off to the wild call of the werewolves and turned to see a young man stoking the fire with a stick.

He was elven, but unlike the Dalish, his face was not decorated with elaborate tattoos nor did he wear the green dyed attire favoured by the itinerant elves. Instead he wore slightly worn robes, indicating that he was most likely a mage, perhaps an Apostate hiding close to the elves to avoid the Templars should they venture here. He looked up, seeing her awake and he smiled, but his expression was tinged with pity. He stood and walked around to her. Elissa could see that he was young, but years of hard living had aged him prematurely.

'How are you feeling?' he asked her quietly.

Elissa shrugged, sitting up a little, but the elf put a hand on her shoulder and guided her back to the floor. 'How does one often feel after being mauled by a werewolf?'

'I cannot say I've had the displeasure myself,' said the elf. 'You know that a curse courses through you.'

'I can feel it,' she replied quietly.

The elf's face twisted into a grimace. 'It will not take long for it to take hold, you are human and the curse was created to infect them quickly and painfully,' he told her grimly. 'I was somewhat surprised to see a lone woman this far into the forest.'

'I was not alone,' she explained. 'I was tracking ahead of a larger group.'

The elf was surprised by this as he raised his eyebrows. 'I saw no sign of any others,' he said.

She tried to recount her steps as she gazed over the mists again, trying to make sense of the chain of events that had led her to her current situation. 'Would I be right in thinking this mist protects the wolves, turning people away? Perhaps they have been turned around.'

A smile appeared on the lined face and his eyes twinkled. 'It is said they dwell deep within the mists where no man can find them, protected by the very spirit of the forest.'

Elissa looked out into the mists; where they had once seemed alien and menacing, they now appeared comforting and inviting. 'They are the spirit of the forest,' she said quietly, 'the savage, harsh side of the forest that knows only survival.'

'How do you know this?'

She turned her head to look at the elf again. 'I don't know,' she said vaguely, how could she explain that it felt like plain truth, a fact that was as certain as night following day. 'I just feel it.'

The elf introduced himself as Aneirin as he helped sit her up giving her a potion to help ease her pain. He propped her against the fallen log he had been previously sitting on before draping a slightly threadbare blanket around her shoulders. Returning to his seat opposite her, he recounted the tale of how he came to be living alone in a spooky werewolf infested forest. He explained his flight from the Circle at Kinloch Hold after a falling out with his mentor, a woman he described as harsh, unkind and terribly impatient.

'The Templars very rarely get far into the forest before they are ambushed by the creatures that stalk in shadows here; there are other dangers in this forest besides werewolves,' he explained, 'so I am safe from them here.'

Elissa grimaced thinking of the spider's nest they had stumbled on mere days ago and the discovery of several bloated but relatively fresh bodies encased in the Chantry issue plate armour.

'But I doubt the likes of you have need to hide from the Templars,' mused Aneirin. 'It is not often that anyone bar the elves comes this deep into the forest.'

'It's a long story,' Elissa replied, huddling into the blanket.

'Perhaps it will keep your mind from the curse?' suggested the elf lightly.

Elissa shrugged helpless, wondering if it was possible to keep her mind from the burning agony in her veins. 'I came here with the Grey Warden's to seek the aid of the Dalish,' she said. 'The corruption of the darkspawn is spreading from the south and Ferelden's first attempt at quelling the horde failed.'

'You are a Grey Warden then?' Aneirin asked.

Elissa shook her head. 'No, I'm…' she trailed off, thinking how to explain who she was in all this, but it suddenly seemed so insignificant. The curse raging through her did not care who she was and would not stop just because she was the Queen of Ferelden. 'I'm just helping him. There's only one Warden left in Ferelden at the moment.'

Aneirin nodded his head gravely. 'A brave mission to undertake,' he said, 'most of your upbringing would just remain at home, safe behind their castle walls.' Elissa looked at him sharply. 'You are a Cousland are you not? The ring on your right hand is the seal of the Teryn of Highever, is it not?'

'How do you know that?'

'In my youth, I heralded from the Alienage there,' he explained gently.

'You have been absent from my home for a long time,' she said, guessing his age to be around thirty if not nearing forty. 'I was not taught to sit idle while the men defended my home. I was taught to survive.'

Aneirin nodded again, this time with a smile on his face. 'No doubt those skills would have served you well had you not been attacked.' His expression turned grave. 'If you were seeking the aid of the elves, I assume then you have encountered Zathrian?'

'We vowed to bring him the heart of Witherfang in exchange for their aid in the Blight,' she explained.

'Zathrian has put you in great danger by setting you against the werewolves,' he said. 'Did he tell you how the curse was transmitted?'

She shook her head. 'I didn't need to be told,' she replied, 'I already assumed a bite would do it, my family has something of a history with werewolves...'

'Yet you still pitted yourself against them?' asked Aneirin. 'When there are other clans who would have help in another part of Ferelden? Or did Zathrian keep that from you?'

Elissa growled under her breath, an animalistic sound that didn't sound all that different to Cassius. She jumped at the sound and covered her mouth before looking at the elf. 'Oh Maker,' she moaned, tears spilling over her eyes and down her cheeks. 'I can't just sit here, if we can find Witherfang and end the curse, then maybe…' she trailed off biting her lip and gazing around.

'You may not have time,' said Aneirin. 'The curse takes hold in humans far quicker than elves. You may not have much more than a day before your body succumbs to the bite and you become one of them.'

She pushed herself to her feet, shaking as she moved. 'I have to try,' she said looking at the mist. 'I've got things to do and someone who needs me.'

Aneirin shook his head, but he couldn't help but be grateful he would not be with her when she transformed. 'What of your companions? You will put them in harms away.'

'I'm sure one of them will strike me down should I not make it,' she said quietly. 'They will do what needs to be done.'

-…-

Like the Revenant they had conquered the day before, the crumbled remains yielded another token with the same strange arcane symbol on it. Alistair contemplated the tarnished silverite coin that sat is his hand; he supposed that it held some sort of unknown significance, but with his wife still missing he simply couldn't focus on anything but his worry for her wellbeing. They had spent hours wandering the forest in search of Elissa, hoping that they might stumble on some sign of her passing, but for all they knew, they might well have been wandering in circles, such was the propensity of the fog shrouded landscape to trick the senses. He looked up, hoping to spot Morrigan scouting in crow form. To his great surprise, the wilder witch had taken the loss of Elissa quite personally and seemed to be expending considerable effort to search for her. Given the witch's usually frosty demeanour and well known disdain of human company, it was a surprising turn of events and Alistair could not help but wonder how Elissa had managed to win the aloof shapeshifter over. Seeing no sign of the witch, he surmised that she had travelled further afield in her search. Although the forest had turned them around back towards the Dalish Camp, Morrigan speculated that Elissa could have been led further into the forest in her bid to find the rest of the group.

He pocketed the seal while the others scavenged the site, having found a decent haul of treasure that had Zevran's eyes sparkling. Daylen put his foot down, refusing to allow anyone to touch it, lest the wares be enchanted with curses and spells designed to enslave. Still, it didn't mean there were no other things of value amongst the set of graves that had now been disturbed by the rising dead. Alistair stood watching them, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the site. While he agreed these Revenants needed dealing with, he wanted, needed, to be searching for Elissa and every moment spent not searching chafed at his rapidly diminishing patience. He ran his hand through his hair wishing he had told her to stay put in Redcliffe. He was supposed to protect her and keep her safe; instead she had been terribly injured at Ostagar and now she was missing. Some husband he was turning out to be.

There was a rustle to the left of him, and he glanced towards it, but after a night and a morning of having his hopes raised and then dashed he looked away, choosing to contemplate his feet. The others had attempted to comfort him with reassuring words that they would find Elissa, but in the end he had told them he didn't want to hear it, falling into sullen, grim silence as they continued to push through the forest in Maker only knew which direction.

Another rustling in the undergrowth caused him to look up; whatever was out there was moving towards them. The disturbance immediately drew the others who gathered around, weapons drawn in preparation for an imminent attack. There was a loud bark and then Cassius tore through the undergrowth. The dog looked expectantly at Alistair before rushing up to him and wrapping his jaws round his arm to pull him along.

'Hey, woah, Cass,' he said, pulling his arm free from the grip of the dog. 'Where is she?'

The dog whined looking back in the direction he had come before grabbing Alistair's wrist in his jaws and pulling him again. Alistair didn't need to be told again. 'Go on,' he told the dog.

Cassius let go of his mistress's mate, and put his nose to the ground sniffing out the trail that would lead him to wherever Elissa was.

'So the dog's in charge?' asked Daylen. 'Great.'

Alistair looked over his shoulder. 'He'll be able to lead us back to her. Cassius is imprinted to her and he would be able to find her even if they were a hundred leagues apart,' he explained as he followed the dog. 'He would not leave her to find us unless there was good reason to do so.'

When she returned from her search, even Morrigan was forced to concede that Cassius was more likely to find Elissa than she was, and remained in human form as they followed the dog. His nose to the ground as he searched out his mistress, Cassius eventually lead them to a small clearing dominated by an alarmingly large pool of dried blood; if that amount of blood had come from one person then they would not have survived the wounds. Alistair felt his stomach drop as the dog went to the bloodied ground and whined, his gaze baleful as he pawed at the ground.

'Oh no,' Leliana whispered as she took in the troubling scene, before spotting Elissa's discarded bow. 'Look,' she exclaimed, pointing to the fallen weapon. 'She would never part with this willingly.'

She walked over to where it lay and picked it up, noting that the delicately carved recurve bow had not been damaged, which was strange given that it was Elissa's first choice of weapon in a fight. Leliana did not think it was likely that she would throw it aside, but in the heat of battle, who knew what Elissa had done to protect herself. The area was frustratingly lacking in clues, but then she spotted a trail that had been made by something dragging something or someone away from the site. Leliana approached it with Kallian at her side; they exchanged glances before examining the bent grass that was smothered in blood.

Kallian looked back at the warhound. The dog had never particularly paid her any attention even after the events at Highever, but regardless, the dog would know his mistress's blood. 'Cass, is this hers?'

The dog looked up, glancing at Alistair who nodded. Cassius trotted forward and sniffed the trail, before he made a sound in his throat that was equal parts growl and whine. Alistair walked over and petted the anxious dog, soothing him with a rub behind the ears, before examining the trail. 'We should follow this,' he said trying to keep his voice calm and even as his eyes followed the bloodied track.

-…-

Aneirin had shown her to the path that would lead her back to the clearing where he had found her. He had not noticed her discarded bow, and she was determined to go back for it. The journey back to the clearing where she had been attacked should have only taken an hour on foot, but her progress was dreadfully slow. She had not anticipated the waves of pain that were now coursing through her body at regular intervals as the curse began to transform her delicate human form into that of hulking werewolf. As another wave of pain washed over her, she stumbled to her knees, eyes clenched shut as she tried to block out the agony of her flesh changing around her.

Her head burnt with the pain, it was like her brain was fighting to escape her skull and her muscles howled in protest against every movement. A sob escaped her lips and she grabbed at her midsection as a wave of nausea assailed her. Why was this happening to her? What had she done in her life that had warranted such harsh suffering? In spite of the pain, she knew she had to keep moving; rising unsteadily to her feet, she straightened herself and continued to walk towards her destination, but it was now more a stagger than a walk. Agonising pain dogged her every step; the half healed injuries on her back were agony, the gash across her cheek hurt as it, like the injuries on her back, had only been tended to, not fully healed as Aneirin had used most of his magic to keep the curse at bay.

She looked up to the trees hoping to see Morrigan's bird form, but she had saw nothing bar the werewolves stalking her in the mists around her, waiting to embrace her as a sister. Despair set in as she staggered, tripped and fell, catching herself on a tree before her knees gave out. Around her the haze swirled closer, entreating her to let them help her, to just give in to the curse and let the change happen. She closed her eyes to block out the insidious call of the forest and focused on who and what she really was, thinking of her beloved, golden-eyed Warrior King and of seeing him again. She repeated his name like a chant, praying she would find him and at least look at him again before this curse took all of her; a final chance to say sorry and goodbye. Elissa tried to stand, but her knees gave out again. She could not muster enough strength and she leant against the tree, tears of fear, grief, and frustration falling freely down her cheeks.

Elissa slumped down against the tree that was supporting her and pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them. How long she sat there, she did not know but eventually Elissa thought she could hear the faint sound of distant voices on the wind. She looked up and scanned the immediate area but she could see nothing; the trees of the forest and the ever present fog that shrouded everything and not even the wolves that had stalked her on her painful journey were visible anymore. They had departed, retreating further into the mists as she continued to resist becoming one of them. She frowned and struggled to her feet again using the tree for support when her limbs trembled from the effort. She staggered out into the path, straining to hear for anything over than the mournful cry of the wind and the sibilant, seductive whispers of the mists.

Then there was a bark, not the rough growl of the werewolves but…

'Cass?' she called quietly, a faint ember of hope springing to life in her chest.

She had been initially gutted to discover her faithful hound had left her, but then she thought it most likely that the dog had gone in search of Alistair. The relationship between her dog and her husband was a fast one; she knew that Cassius would seek Alistair out and bring him to her should she be in peril. The tan dog bounded along the path into view, he stopped to look at her before taking off towards her and Elissa dropped to her knee again to catch the dog but then he stopped short of her, gazing at her curiously with a strange gleam of sapient understanding before sniffing her cautiously, much as he had done when they had first met just before he chose to imprint on her.

'It's okay,' she said hoarsely, holding her hand out. He whined before nudging his head into her out stretched hand. 'I'm still me for the moment,' she whispered wrapping her arms around the dog's neck. 'You did well in the fight.'

Cassius whined again as he nudged her affectionately, then a voice carried to them. 'He's bloody well run off ahead again.'

Kallian sounded exasperated as she spoke before running into view after Cassius, then she came to a sudden stop when she saw Elissa. Their eyes met and Kallian stared at her in horror. 'By the…' she whispered, putting her hand over her mouth as she took in Elissa's dishevelled bloodied state. Her red hair was matted with blood, the gash on her face was red and angry, and she looked sickly pale with dark bruising under her eyes. Her clothes were shredded beyond repair and covered in blood. What skin Kallian could see was either bruised or covered in deep gashes.

'She's here,' Kallian yelled in a shaking voice, looking over her shoulder in the direction she had come, 'Cass found her.' Then the elf ran towards her, pulling her cloak off. 'Maker, Elissa, are you…?' she asked dropping down next to her and wrapped her cloak around her. 'What happened?'

Elissa shook her head. 'No time,' she replied, looking out into the mists. The wolves still hadn't come back. 'We have to find them before it's too late.'

'They're coming,' Kallian replied softly, reaching out to take Elissa's hand and frowning as she felt the clamminess of Elissa's palm.

Elissa managed a smile. 'Not the others, but Witherfang and the werewolves, we need to find them,' she explained. 'Before I…'

Kallian groaned, cutting Elissa off before she could explain further. 'I don't know if we can, Morrigan said the forest is turning us around,' she explained sadly.

'Yes,' Elissa agreed. 'The forest protects the werewolves, it is a part of them and it leads you away from them, but I can see the path. The forest wants to lead me to them, to safety.'

Kallian frowned as the others hurried around the corner. The elf looked around at the mists as understanding started to dawn on her. 'No,' she whispered, but Elissa nodded dejectedly. She looked at Elissa in horror as the full implication of the situation sank in. 'Oh Maker, Elissa.'

Kallian stood as Alistair broke from the group and rushed frantically to his wife, calling for Wynne to help. He looked distraught, all colour draining from his face as he took in the sight of his beloved's ravaged form. 'Elissa!' he cried, his voice choked from the fear and horror that overwhelmed him. Seeing her there, filthy and covered in blood, her once fine leathers now a tattered ruin, he realised how badly he had failed her. He should have protected her, as he had vowed when they married; love, honour and protect her to the Maker's side and beyond. He dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling off his gauntlets before tenderly taking her face in his hands, his thumb stroking underneath the cut of her cheek. She winced and a tear dripped from her eye. Alistair reached up before it could fall into the cruel slash across her cheek, bowing his head to press his forehead against hers as tears welled in his eyes.

Kallian looked away, stopping the Wynne and nudging her away from the couple as the rest of the group joined her. As quietly as she could, without disturbing Alistair and Elissa, she explained what had happened to their tracker and the extent of the wounds she had seen. Daylen went pale, the colour draining from his face as quickly before he cursed darkly damning the Maker to the Void for bringing such an injury on their party while Leliana clapped a hand over her mouth shaking her head. Zevran looked on with immense sadness before bowing his head whispering a prayer in Antivan for their injured comrade. Even Morrigan looked on in horror, her gaze fixing on the fearless red haired tracker who had shown her the most kindness of all present. The only person apparently unaffected by the news was Sten, who remained stoically silent through Kallian's explanation.

'There must be something we can do for her,' said Wynne sadly. 'We can't just let her succumb to this curse.'

'We can find this Witherfang and pull his heart from his chest,' said Daylen quietly.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow at the Warden. 'And how do you suggest we find this Witherfang? Who knows where he is hiding. Even though I can see beyond the mists, I have no idea what manner of form this beast takes.'

'Maybe Elissa can,' said Kallian quietly, keeping her back resolutely on the couple affording them as much privacy as she could. 'She said the forest protects them and wants to lead her to them.'

Daylen turned his unseeing gaze on where Elissa was, being held by her husband as she sobbed in his arms, clinging to him with what little strength she had remaining. Her frowned darkly before he looked away, turning to Morrigan. 'Can you make a pass to the Dalish Camp and then return? I want to know what that Keeper of theirs is up to,' he said, cold anger brimming in his voice

Morrigan did not answer, but she smiled viciously before she took to the skies.

The Warden then turned to Kallian. 'She might not be strong enough to lead us to the other werewolves.'

'You know the decision will be hers to make, Daylen,' said Kallian. 'Why don't we see what she says before deciding?'

Wynne coaxed Alistair away from his wife. 'Let me see what I can do for her.'

Leliana put a comforting arm on Alistair's shoulder and he shot her a wan smile as Elissa began directing Wynne to divert her energies on keeping the curse at bay. 'The wounds don't matter,' she told the mage, 'it's the curse. If we can hold it at bay for a day or so, we can find the werewolves.'

'Are you sure you are up for that?' asked Daylen.

Elissa shook her head as Wynne poured some magic into her body. 'No,' she said, 'but we have to try. Zathrian has deceived us, there were other clans we could have gone in search of.'

'How do you know this?' asked Alistair, crossing his arms and frowning.

'There was an elven healer who helped me, here in the forest,' she explained ignoring the dubious look exchanged between Alistair and Daylen. 'He said we would be able to find him with the Dalish when we returned. It was he who told me of Zathrian's lie.'

'It isn't the only thing Zathrian has lied about,' said Daylen darkly. Everyone turned to look at him. 'The werewolves, he and now you all share the same aura. At first, I thought that perhaps he was like Wynne, but he is not.'

Elissa frowned. 'He is connected to the curse?'

'I think so,' said Daylen, crossing his arms over his chest and positively glowering.

'Then perhaps this Witherfang has something to say on the matter,' suggested Elissa, 'presuming he has the same intelligence the others possess.' Wynne let go of her and Elissa gingerly got to her feet. She looked over the group and took a deep breath. 'I will lead you as far as I can, but if the curse takes hold, please, don't hesitate…'

'Liss,' Alistair pleaded.

She shook her head. 'I mean it, just kill me. I don't want to transform into a savage beast, so it would be better if you just slay me.' She looked at Sten, the giant Qunari had not said anything about the shocking developments, seemingly unperturbed by it all. 'Sten, can I ask that you will aim true and strong without hesitation should the curse transform me?'

The Qunari gave her a strange look, as if seeing her for the first time and weighing her worth. 'You have my word,' he agreed with an almost imperceptible nod, his tone as emotionless as ever.

Elissa nodded, placing her hand on Alistair's forearm when he went to argue. 'Thank you,' she said the Qunari. 'We should get moving. I don't think I have much time left.'

-…-

'You need to prepare for the worse,' Daylen said quietly to Alistair as the younger man watched his wife at the edge of the camp.

They had encountered yet another Revenant, and in the heat of battle, Elissa had lost control unable to distinguish between friend and foe. It had taken a combination of Daylen's magic and Kallian's reflexes to subdue her. Daylen was lucky that Alistair had been drained of the mana he used to perform his magic draining spells otherwise he might have found himself subject to a powerful Holy Smite that would have left him powerless. Elissa had been left shaken by the incident and now sat at the edge of the camp gazing out into the mists, listening to a song that only she could hear. After Wynne had tended to her wounds, applying her healing salve and wrapping the wounds in bandages, Elissa had moved away from the rest of the group seeking solitude. It was becoming increasingly obvious to all of them that she was slowly but surely losing the war for control of her own body. Wynne's magic had stopped working against the curse and it was only a matter of time before her body would succumb; although precisely when that would be, no-one, not even Elissa, could say

'Sten will kill her if she turns,' continued Daylen in a low voice.

Alistair shook his head. 'I can't lose her,' he replied quietly. 'There has to be something we can do.'

'Our only hope of curing her is to find Witherfang,' said Daylen.

'Then why have we stopped?'

'Because we're all tired,' said Daylen pointedly. 'Those Revenants have drained us all with their magic. I wish we could go on, Maker knows I don't want to see her dead, but the others need rest.'

'I could go ahead with Elissa,' said Alistair his voice growing desperate.

Daylen sighed. 'You go ahead, you could find yourself facing a fully-fledged werewolf alone,' he cautioned, 'and then where would we be?' He shook his head sadly, revealing for a brief moment the grief he felt for the young woman who had bravely walked into danger at his behest and was now paying a price for it in a way he had never thought possible. He had wondered over and over again if they had not been distracted by the Revenant the day before would they have kept pace with her and saved her from the terrible fate that was now consuming her. 'You should go and spend time with your wife before it's too late.'

The two men parted ways and Daylen sat down beside the fire. Like the night before, no one sparred, no one spoke, they just gazed in horrified silence. Even Sten had joined the main fire in a bid to give the couple some privacy. Daylen hung his head in despair; this was not something he had foreseen and he did not want to have her death on his conscience - not like this. However, it was his fault, he had talked her into venturing out alone, ignoring Alistair's concerns that she would come to harm. Even after seeing the beasts he hadn't backed down and let her get on with it. He felt as if he should have prevented it from happening; every single person in the group was placing themselves at risk to help him and therefore he had a responsibility as their leader and he now felt that he was failing them badly.

Oh, the Maker was having a fine day when He decided that Daylen should be the last Warden in Ferelden during a Blight.

'Do you think you will ever forgive me?' Elissa asked Alistair as he stood beside her. He took her hand but didn't answer her. She looked down at their entwined fingers before she closed her eyes against the pain that was welling up from every part of her body. 'I should have listened to you,' she admitted quietly. 'I'm too stubborn for my own good.'

'You're going to die,' he replied quietly. Although he sounded calm, she could detect all the emotions in his voice; the anger, hurt, heartache and his love for her all mixing together to give his voice an odd note to his usually warm timbre.

'Probably,' she agreed dully. She squeezed her eyes shut and clapped her free hand over her mouth shaking her head.

Alistair's hand glided up her arm and gently caressed her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. That was the very shoulder that the werewolf had bitten her and if any part of her body ached, it was there. Her other hand came up to protect her wounded shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut again as pain enveloped her again; she doubled over as she tried to hold herself together and cried out. Alistair stood helpless and horrified as she collapsed to her knees, gasping for air as she clawed at the ground.

'Wynne,' he yelled in a shaky voice as he fell to his knees beside her, gathering her failing body in his arms. 'Liss,' he moaned, 'please, just hold on, don't go.'

Both Wynne and Daylen hurried over as the spasms released Elissa and she collapsed against Alistair's chest. He looked at the two mages. 'Please,' he implored as Wynne stroked her brow.

The spirit healer shook her head. 'There is nothing more we can do,' she confessed sadly, pushing Elissa's blood and sweat matted hair aside. 'It's just a matter of time.'

'There has to be something,' replied Alistair desperately, tightening his hold on his wife.

'At the only moment, the only known cure is the heart of Witherfang,' said Daylen sadly. 'But, even then, how do we know Zathrian will share this cure with us?'

A moan escaped Alistair's lips as he buried his face in her hair. Wynne and Daylen silently stepped away from his grief as the couple held each other. Daylen actually thought he might throw up from the sensation that churned in his stomach from witnessing such grief, thinking for the first time in his relatively short life that perhaps it was better if the hearts of men remained closed away so they wouldn't have to endure such pain. But all the same, he did not think he would ever forget witnessing such anguish nor the violence of Elissa's slow demise.

Elissa's whole body spasmed with pain again and she cried out again before sobbing. She could feel the last vestiges of her resistance crumbling; she had no more strength left with which to fight. Elissa didn't want to endure the change that was rapidly coming upon her and had she been able, she'd have taken her own dagger and pushed it through her heart. She looked back at Alistair, wondering if he had the strength in him to help her angle the blade and push.

In his arms, Elissa reached up and gently caressed Alistair's cheek. 'It's okay,' she whispered softly. 'Please.'

His heartbroken eyes met hers as he covered her shaking hand with his. 'No,' he said in a shaky voice. 'It's not okay.'

'Listen to me,' she said quietly, 'you have to keep going, whatever happens, don't stop until this Blight is over. Fight for everything we have both lost; our families, our child, our country.'

Alistair blinked as he processed her words. 'Our...child?' he repeated shakily looking down at her belly. 'No.'

'I didn't know,' she said, 'not until it was too late.' Tears dripped down her face. 'My injuries in Highever were too serious for me sustain the child. I don't even know if it was a boy or girl.'

The pain Alistair felt renewed itself and he tightened his hold her. 'I'll avenge all of them, Elissa,' his voice a choked sob.

'No,' she said shaking her head. 'Don't turn to revenge, if you do then how will you be better than those we fight against?'

'They deserve to die,' said Alistair darkly, anger overwhelming all other emotions as the full implication of what he had lost at Howe's hands became clear to him.

A child. The beautiful woman in his arms had come close to giving him the start of the family he had always wish for, only for to be torn from them both. The ache in his heart was so profound for the lost child that had died in her belly. He had wanted a family and children but his status as the bastard son of King Maric had once been a barrier to that, now Ferelden was relying on that. But the only woman he wanted to spend his life with was being wrenched away from him because his efforts to keep her safe had been inadequate.

'Yes,' she agreed, 'but do it right. Use justice to prove that you are better than your enemies.' She sighed heavily and her gaze returned to the welcoming mists. The desire to reach out to them and melt away into their soothing embrace was bordering on irresistible.

Then she looked out across the camp watching the group who had become a surrogate family to her; a group of people who had healed a little bit of the ache in her heart after losing all of her family bar the man who held her now. She wondered who among them would have the ability to help her end this before it reached its inevitable conclusion. The group was huddled together debating and occasionally flashing glances at her before Zevran stepped away and walked towards them holding a vial he had pulled from his pack. The usually good humoured elf looked grave as he knelt down beside her. Alistair looked at him suspiciously, but Zevran paid him no heed as he focused on Elissa.

'The pain is very great now,' he observed and Elissa nodded. 'You know that the Crows specialise in poisons; there are ones that take all pain before they kill so that their targets might die in blissful oblivion.' He put the poison in her hand. 'Do not put yourself through more pain than you need to. I regret that I cannot offer more...'

He stepped away with a sad smile for her, walking back to the group. She sat up a little and examined the vial she had been given; it was clear and seemed like such a small dose for something he claimed would free her of the pain and let her slip away peacefully.

'Liss,' Alistair moaned painfully, 'don't.'

Her terrified, tearful gaze met his and her heart caught in her throat. 'Please,' she begged. 'Let me end this with dignity.'

Despite the look of horror in his eyes, the pain that churned over his young face, Alistair nodded his agreement. He bowed his head closely to her ear. 'I will always love you, Elissa Theirin,' he said, 'you will forever be first in my heart.'

'I love you as well,' she said as her shaky hand pulled the stopper from the vial. 'More than I ever thought possible.'

She closed her eyes and brought the vial to her lips, knocking it back in one go before she lost her nerve. The blissful oblivion that Zevran spoke off suffused her body and for the first time since she had woken in the makeshift camp with Aneirin, Elissa felt no wracking pain as her body tried to change her. As her eyes drifted shut, she felt Alistair place his lips to hers and whispered his love for her again and again before she was lost to the darkness.


	21. The Heart of the Forest VI

20th Firstfall, 9:30 (Day)  
The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden.

Morrigan fluttered down from the forest canopy, seamlessly shifting into human form as she landed. A pall of a despair and grief had fallen over the group after the distressing events of the previous day and even Morrigan could deny the sorrow she felt at seeing Elissa's fate. The sight of the young woman's ravaged form had been a shock even to one as indifferent to cruelty and suffering as Morrigan, and the witch swore that she would see the treacherous elf pay for his deception. The group were gathered around the campfire murmuring in low voices, looking drawn and tired, as if they had been up all night. The only person missing from the gathering was Elissa, who lay on a bedroll with Alistair's cloak folded under her head and blankets drawn up to her chin in a tranquil sleep.

Morrigan stared down at the young woman's still form, pondering the fact that her serenity came not from sleeping but because she was in a state close to death; her skin was the colour of porcelain save for the angry red cut that stood out starkly against the deathly white of her face. Her breath was shallow and laboured, and her heart had slowed, shutting down her body to the bare minimum functions. If she guessed correctly, the Crow had supplied one of his poisons to slow her body down so the curse could not infect her so quickly. She smiled, faintly impressed by the assassin's ingenuity.

However, as clever as Zevran's action had been, it had not stopped the onset of the curse. All the poison had achieved was to spare Elissa the pain and trauma of experiencing her horrific transformation while conscious; the curse was still running its seemingly inevitable course. It did not travel through the blood like an extract of Deathroot or venom from a spider, it was a wild, untamed magic that transformed the very fabric of whatever it infected, and as such could not be treated in the same manner as other non-magical poisons or infections. But Morrigan understood the curse; she could feel the way it churned through Elissa, unwillingly changing her, twisting her form and tearing her spirit away in the process. She also understood something about Elissa that no one, not even Elissa herself, had noticed, blinded as they were by their preconceptions of magic and power.

She walked past the group to where Elissa lay, conscious of the whole group observing her with their mistrustful gazes. People were so afraid of what they did not understand; they did not understand Morrigan's power because it did not fall in line with the Chantry's teachings of magic and so they feared her. Elissa was the only one of them who was not afraid. She was the only one who understood nature and the power of old magic that was woven into the fabric of the natural world, even if she did not comprehend her connection to that power. From the first time Morrigan had encountered this girl, a blood splattered Queen who fought with all her might in Redcliffe, she could sense something in Elissa's nature that set her apart from others. It was something old, primal, and dormant, like the ancient magicks that Flemeth had spoken of, fragments of which her mother had taught her. It was that nature that fought against the curse and had kept her in human form this long. Any other human would have succumbed hours ago.

She knelt beside Elissa and focused, blocking out the distractions of the camp as they roused from their melancholy, demanding to know what she was doing as she began gathering what power she could from the earth. Morrigan closed her eyes and started chanting in a tongue so old than none bar Flemeth knew its roots.

'What you doing?' Alistair demanded harshly from behind her.

But Morrigan ignored him, suffusing Elissa's body with magic drawn from nature, feeding her dormant power to give it more strength. Magic from the Fade could feed it, but it was a weak imitation of the raw power of the earth. Although the spirit of the forest was absent, the power she could draw was still more potent than that of the Fade. She stood and turned, finding herself in the iron grip of the Templar King whose amber eyes blazed with suspicion.

'Giving her more time,' replied Morrigan coolly, attempting to pull herself free and failing. 'Whatever it is that you have done to her has taken her pain but not stopped the progress of the curse. She needs aid that only old magic can provide.'

Alistair stared at her. 'Wynne's magic stopped working.'

'That is because she is bound by the fears and superstitions of the Chantry. They know nothing of the true raw magic that runs through the very fabric of nature,' Morrigan snarled, taking advantage of Alistair's momentary surprise to wrench herself free of his grip. 'We might yet save her.' She stepped away from the Templar and turned her gaze on Daylen. 'The Elven Keeper has left his people and made his way straight to a location just north of here, an ancient ruin that is hidden by the mists. My guess is that is where we will find Witherfang in whatever form it takes.'

An expression of savage determination creased Daylen's face. 'We will find out who is responsible curse, and we end it today,' he declared. 'Morrigan can you lead us?'

'Surely Elissa can be woken, so that she may lead us?' asked Morrigan her gaze going to Zevran. 'It calls to her.'

'I do have the antidote,' confirmed Zevran, but his expression was dark, full of grief for what he had witnessed. 'But I am at loath to see her suffer in such agony. You were not here last night, and I would not wish such suffering on anyone.'

'A strange sentiment for an assassin who professes to enjoy the kill,' observed Morrigan.

'Just because I enjoy the art of a beautiful death, does not mean I enjoy witnessing needless suffering,' he bit back.

Even the witch was forced to concede that Elissa would resist the curse longer if she remained comatose, but the fact remained that only she possessed the unique insight into the nature of these creatures that would allow them to enter the mist shrouded heart of the forest and seek the curse at its source. While Morrigan could provide her with the magic required to help Elissa keep the curse under control for a time, she could not guarantee the absence of pain, and she did not care to imagine the agony of an unwilling change. Morrigan's own transformations were not without significant discomfort as her form changed, but her change was willing and through years of practice she had learnt to control the pain she felt.

'We should take her with us,' said Morrigan, her eyes going to the Templar. 'I assume you can carry her?'

Alistair nodded curtly before going to gather his wife's prone form. He pushed aside a lock of hair from her forehead. 'Just hold on,' he begged her before lifting her into his arms. 'Just a little longer.'

Morrigan led the way in bear form, sniffing out the route to the ruins she had followed Zathrian to previously. Beside her, Cassius followed the trail, possessed of some instinctive understanding that this task was vital to saving his mistress. The area was rife with the scent of werewolves and that put Cassius on guard. He was a smart animal, easily the smarter of the two beings that were sworn to protect Elissa.

Behind them, Daylen's companions formed a protective circle around Alistair and Elissa with Kallian at point and Sten bringing up the rear. It was odd to see the slender elf at the forefront of the group, but she was vigilant and on alert as they traversed the winding path. With any luck it would take them no more than an hour to reach the location Morrigan had seen.

The forest gave way to an open clearing and Morrigan reverted to her human form, edging to the brushy verge and peering out into the clearing. The first time she had been here, she had not had a good opportunity to fully appreciate the magnitude of the ruins, being concerned solely with staying on the trail of the Dalish Keeper. Before her were the crumbling ruins of a once great stone edifice that was being slowly but inexorably consumed by the forest; whole pillars had crumbled to the ground while ivy and moss clambered over the other parts of the structure. The effect of the ancient, crumbling structure was eerie, appearing as if it were both a natural part of the forest and at the same time a foreign intruder, much like themselves.

'Remain here,' she commanded the others before she took flight so she could observe the site and scout the area.

Alistair carefully lay Elissa down, grateful to be able to rest his arms, which were aching from the constant strain of carrying her. The last time he had carried her like this, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled, despite having sprained her ankle tripping over a tree root while enjoying time away from their duties at Highever. He pushed the hair from her forehead, gazing at her battle-scarred face. The gash across her cheek marred her once perfect features, but if she survived this, it would be a small price to pay for her life. If she chose, the scar could be concealed with cosmetics as it had been healed in such a way as to not permanently distort her features. Looking down at her battered form, he swore silently that if she survived this trial he would never let her out his sight again, and that he would be her champion and shield so that she might never again know the pain and fear that had coloured her life these past months.

If she died, then he knew he would fall into a chasm of despair from which he might never emerge, doomed to living in shadow without her. If she died, he would never love again, unworthy of the stunning emotion that had welled in his heart for his beautiful wife from the moment their eyes had first met. The Orlesians called the intensity of the feelings he felt a _coup de foudre_; it had certainly hit him like a bolt from the blue with an intensity that had yet to dim.

Those few fateful seconds after she drank Zevran's poison were the longest and most painful seconds of his life. He held her tightly against his own body as she sighed and relaxed in release, finally relieved of her pain. In those few harrowing moments, he experienced an agony of loss he could scarcely fathom as he felt the life ebb from the woman that embodied all of his hopes and dreams. He did not know how long he held her for before Kallian knelt beside him, carefully prying his grip from Elissa's body, gently warning him that he could still hurt her. He looked at her in confusion, unable to comprehend the meaning of her words. 'The poison,' she said, 'it won't kill her just yet. It will take time.' Her expression of anguished concern finally penetrated the haze of confusion and grief that had settled over him and he yielded to her, releasing his grip on Elissa's body. The elven girl always surprised him; her ferocity in battle was oddly juxtaposed with her now gentle expression as she empathised with his pain.

Time, Alistair discovered, was until Zevran could administer the antidote or the poison finished its deathly cycle, killing her after a day under its influence. The poison, Zevran explained, was often used by the Crows when they had been poisoned themselves to slow the body until the right antidote could be found. The Antivan Crow had been unrepentant about his deception in telling Elissa it would kill her, claiming it necessary to get her to drink the vial. Alistair didn't know if he wanted kill the elf or hug him because although he knew that Elissa might never wake again, as they stood on the edge of the ruins that Zathrian had come to, there was a stirring of hope in his chest.

Morrigan returned, touching down and looking troubled as she returned to her slender human form. 'They are expecting us,' she announced. 'We should proceed slowly.'

Alistair went first, cradling Elissa in his arms with Cassius walking beside him. The ruin was fascinating, like nothing he had ever seen in his life and he absently wondered about what came first; the forest or the building, such was the degree to which the two seemed intertwined. Ferelden's history claimed that the forest was old even in the early years of the Tevinter rule, but only the Maker truly knew how old Thedas was and what had come before even the elves. Ahead of them, standing at the gates was the giant white werewolf that had led the group during their first encounter. As he walked forward with his wife in his arms he tried to think about what she would say to them to make them listen to him.

The werewolf howled, summoning more of his brethren. 'The forest betrays us. Retreat and protect the lady,' the wolf growled.

'No, wait,' called Alistair, acting on an instinct that seemed to speak to him in Elissa's voice. 'Just hear us out. We're not here to bring you any harm and if you will let us, we will help you find a way to bring an end to this curse.'

The leader turned his scrutiny on Alistair, weighing him up before his sentient gaze travelled to Elissa lying limply in his arms. 'So, now you see how Zathrian betrays you,' he growled, his tone laced with grim satisfaction. 'She will not resist the curse much longer.'

Alistair shook his head. 'No, she does not have long,' he agreed.

'If you seek a cure, there is none,' said the werewolf. 'None that Witherfang or the Lady can provide.'

'But what about Zathrian?' asked Daylen. 'I know the curse connects you all.'

The white werewolf growled under his breath at the name but paid Daylen no further heed. He had recognised Elissa as the leader of this pack and in her incapacity, he recognised the one he considered to be her mate. 'How do I know you do not seek to harm the Lady and Witherfang in a misguided belief that you can cure your mate?' he asked Alistair. 'She is your mate, is she not? I can smell her scent on you.'

'She is,' replied Alistair, 'but she believed there was more to this story than what Zathrian told us. I'm willing to let Witherfang have his say if there is a chance I can save her. We have no reason to trust Zathrian; he has lied to us on several counts and we have little reason to believe he would share the secret of a cure with us.'

'You might be right, the elf hates humans and wishes to see them continue to suffer while the Lady brings us succour from the trials of our form,' replied the werewolf. He reared to his full height and howled; it was not a dread howl of attack but it felt like a question. He remained stock still for a moment as if listening, before dropping back down to his haunches. 'You may follow, but if you turn on any of us, we will kill you.'

Alistair turned his head and looked at every member of the group individually, the order clear in his eyes; none were to draw a weapon, and each of them gave a nod of acknowledgement. He turned back to the werewolf. 'You have my word that none of us will turn on you.'

-...-

At any other time, the grand ruin might have held great interest to group; it was a strange combination of ancient Tevinter and Elven design, speaking of a relationship that contradicted all known history. Mysterious symbols appeared on the walls, similar to the ones on the tokens that Alistair had collected in fighting the Revenants. Wynne remarked that there seemed to be a narrative within the images and pictograms carved into the walls around them, but due to the fact that the passage of time had severely eroded the text and the artwork, she could only speculate as to their meaning. If Alistair had to guess, he would initially surmise that they were in some sort of temple, but he had little time or inclination to consider he structure's historical significance while Elissa's life hung in the balance. Perhaps when she had woken, for he would countenance no other outcome, he would be free to ponder the origins of this mysterious ruin lurking in the heart of Ferelden's oldest, most mysterious forest. But until then, all he could think of was the woman in his arms.

The ruin had clearly been the domain of the werewolves for some time; it stank of their filth to such a degree that even Cassius recoiled from the stench. But no matter how pervasive the smell of animal excrement and rotting food got, Alistair pressed on, reminding himself that this trial was a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to save his beloved's life; there was nothing he would not endure to save her. Zevran had administered the antidote before they entered the ruin behind the werewolves but Elissa remained limp and lifeless in his arms. He would have given anything for her to have shown some sign that she was still with him and not lost to him forever.

After what seemed like an age, they were brought to a great chamber where several of the beasts prowled in an agitated manner. But Alistair was fixated on the most fascinating creature that stood upon the dais before him. Tall, female, humanoid, and completely nude save for the vines and roots that crawled up her legs and shrouded her abdomen, Alistair guessed this was the Lady of which the werewolf had spoken of. In another time and place he might have been embarrassed by her brazen nudity, but such was his single-minded concern for his wife that it was of no consequence. She looked like the essence of a nature spirit, but when he summoned his Templar skills to feel out her abilities he could only sense the now familiar hum of Daylen, Wynne, and Morrigan from behind him; whatever this Lady was, she did not appear to possess any form of magic that he had ever encountered before. As he walked forward, he watched the leader of the werewolves lope up to the bared spirit and regard her with great loving reverence. In response, the Lady gently stroked the wolf as he took his place beside her.

The Lady turned her inscrutable gaze on Alistair and then Elissa. 'So these are the mortals Zathrain sent against us?' she asked the white werewolf. 'The same mortals who asked to parley before it came to this?' The leader hung his head at the implicit chastisement in her cool questioning before she turned her attention back to Alistair. 'You will have to forgive Swiftrunner, his wild nature goes against his better judgement from time to time. Had he allowed your mate to parley then perhaps things would have been different.'

The manifested spirit glided forward revealing a hand that, like her other limbs, seemed entwined in branches with fingers that appeared to end in long twigs instead of nails. Similar to what Morrigan had done to Elissa earlier in the day, she passed her hand over her, closing her eyes as she sensed Elissa's spirit. An expression of great sadness filled the Lady's face. 'She is passing beyond this realm,' she said gravely.

Alistair felt his knee's tremble. 'No,' he said in horrified voice. 'She has to live. I would give my own life if it would save hers.'

The Lady reached out to him. 'Giving your life could not save her,' said the spirit. 'The magic in her is now so strong that it chooses to end her life rather than allowing her to be transformed.'

'Magic?' asked Alistair cautiously, tightening his hold on his wife's still form.

'Ancient magic that has always lain dormant within her veins has been woken by the magic used to help her fight the curse,' said the Lady, focusing her enigmatic gaze on Morrigan. Seeing their questioning looks, she elaborated. 'She possesses the essence of life and nature within her being, though she knows it not. In the days when this forest was young it was her kind that cultivated the roots here. The mortals with this gift were our guides, nurturing us and caring for us, walking at our sides and maintaining the balance of life. But then all was lost, swallowed up when the Veil was torn asunder and all was plunged into great darkness. The spark of life had been lost and, bereft of balance and unity of purpose, we were forced to live in darkness, our forms twisted by the demands of survival until we forgot all that we were' She sighed heavily. 'This child is not the first I have seen with the spark of the old ways in her blood; she is not even the strongest. But like the others she has chosen not to become bound to this unnatural form.' She indicated to Swiftrunner. 'When she dies, the curse within her will die too.'

'What if the curse was cured before it could change her?' asked Daylen. 'Zathrian spoke of a cure.'

The Lady laughed; it was a strange sound, cruel, bitter, harsh and almost like a bark. 'I know what Zathrian speaks of, and he shall not have it,' she said. 'There is only one way to break the curse; one connected to Zathrian that will end it completely. What he seeks is just a means to serve his own ends, not a true end to this curse.' She turned her gaze back to Alistair. 'Zathrian's cure could not save her now that her own nature is killing her. Even ending the curse would not stop what is already in motion within her body. I could attempt to cure your mate, but it is a risky ritual that may not succeed, and it does not come without a price.'

'What is your price?' asked Alistair shakily, knowing that he would pay anything for Elissa's return.

'Your mate will be changed forever; to reunify her body and spirit she must be taken beyond the brink of death and then returned with the old magic of the earth. Doing so will awaken the dormant powers of her blood that have lain out of reach for her entire life,' explained the spirit.

He looked at his wife in his arms. 'She'll become a mage?' asked Alistair slowly, recalling Elissa's earlier revelations about her family.

'No,' said the spirit, 'but the spiritual bonds that tie her to the earth will be a thousand times more powerful than they were before. She will feel the ebb and flow of life more freely and have the power to call any beast to her side should she desire aid or protection. Life will flourish around her and she will know the freedom of the power that has driven her all her life yet remained out of reach.'

'Alistair,' said Wynne quietly. 'This may not be wise. We know nothing of this 'magic' and you maybe exposing your wife to something far more malevolent than that which haunts the Fade. Not only that, she is not just your wife, but she is your Queen. The Chantry would never tolerate an abomination on the throne.'

'The only thing close to an abomination is you,' muttered Morrigan harshly. 'Your spirit of faith may turn out to be far less benevolent than you think. Even you are aware of the knife edge you live on; you fled your Circle out of fear of them discovering what resides in you, knowing that they would slay you without thought. The magic of the earth holds no such evil. The Lady offers Elissa life and freedom. Were it I making the choice, I would give her that freedom. She is already aware at how deeply this connection runs in her. She feels it, even if she cannot comprehend it.' Morrigan turned her attention on Alistair. 'Don't let her die because your Chantry teachings leave you ignorant of the true nature of magic. You have already embraced and accepted her in a lesser form; save her and allow her to be what she was meant to be.'

Daylen grimaced a little. 'I have to say I agree with Morrigan,' he said. 'This spirit has no root in the Fade, and between us, should it come to it, we can protect her from the Chantry.'

Alistair turned his head, not letting Daylen see his surprise at his proclamation that he would help protect Elissa if it came to it. His attention returned to the Lady and he nodded his head. 'Do whatever you can to save her, I beg it of you.'

'Alistair,' cautioned Wynne.

'No,' he said sharply. 'I've already failed her too many times. I won't let her just die.'

Morrigan chuckled. 'It seems you possess more intelligence than you like to let on.'

The Lady smiled. 'There is something I must ask of you in return,' she said. 'I want Zathrian brought to us so that he may end the curse forever.'

'So he is the creator of the curse?' asked Daylen.

'It was when the Dalish first came to these lands, many centuries ago,' explained the Lady. 'A tribe of humans lived close to the forest, and they sought to drive the Dalish away. Zathrian was a young man in those days, with a son and daughter who he loved greatly. While they were out hunting, the human tribe captured them both.'

One of the werewolves, brown and nearly as tall as Swiftrunner growled before he spoke. 'The humans, they tortured the boy, killing him and the girl, they raped before leaving her for dead. The Dalish found her, but later she discovered she was with child and she killed herself.'

Behind him, Alistair heard Leliana gasp; it took all his will not to express his disgust at the long dead men who had caused such needless torment. 'Zathrian cursed them, I take it?' he asked darkly.

'Zathrian came to this ruin,' the werewolf continued, 'and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf; so Witherfang came to be. Witherfang, imbued with Zathrian's insatiable hunger for vengeance, hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed but others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures.'

'Twisted and savage, just as Witherfang himself is,' said the Lady regretfully. 'The humans were driven from the forest leaving only their former brethren, warped and tormented by the curse and roaming freely without awareness or purpose.'

'Until I found you, my Lady,' said Swiftrunner, dropping to his knee in reverence before her.

'I helped Swiftrunner overcome his bestial nature and in time, he brought others to me,' explained the Lady, reaching out and tenderly stroking the werewolf with a gentle caress.

'So you attacked the Dalish out of vengeance?' asked Alistair, slightly disgusted at the notion, particularly after what Elissa had said about placing himself about his enemies and not using revenge to achieve his aims.

'In part,' admitted the Lady. 'We seek to the end the curse and our own suffering. The crimes committed against Zathrian's children were grave, but they were committed centuries ago by those who are long dead. Word was sent to Zathrian every time the Landships passed this way asking him to come but he has always ignored us and we will no longer be denied. This curse will end, one way or another.'

'We spread the curse to his people so he must end it,' said Swiftrunner.

'Please mortals, you must go to him, if we are to save your Lady and ourselves you must convince him to hear our plea,' said the Lady.

Alistair shook his head. 'Zathrian cares only for his own people; he does not care for those who have put themselves in harm's way for him. The lies he told us have made that clear.'

'The curse must still be broken,' continued the Lady. 'And while Zathrian may be right about his cure, I can assure you that unless he comes, none shall ever find Witherfang. It is within my power to ensure that he is never found. Tell him this and bring him here so that we might bring an end to this.'

'He is already here,' said Morrigan. 'He arrived a few hours before we did.'

The Lady nodded. 'Then help us see this ended,' she said. 'Let this be over.'

'Why not just kill Zathrian instead?' Daylen inquired thoughtfully.

'His death alone will not end the curse and I will not cure her if you do not at least bring him here. I seek to end this suffering for all of us,' said the Lady. 'He knows what he must do to end this.'

Daylen nodded curtly. 'Fine,' he said tightly, 'but if he so much as gives us a reason to strike him down, then Maker help me, I will.' He turned to Alistair. 'We shall see you when we return.'

The Lady shook her head and looked at Alistair. 'We have seen your skills in the forest, you may need them should Zathrian choose to fight,' she said. 'We shall protect your mate; she is a kin to us through the curse and I shall see that no harm will come to her.'

Alistair met the eyes of the Lady and somehow, he believed her. He nodded curtly then lay his wife down, pressing a sweet kisses to her cool lips. 'I'll be back, my love,' he whispered before joining Daylen to lead the group to Zathrian.

-...-

'They may yet deceive us,' growled Swiftrunner as he observed the Lady examine the girl.

The Lady shook her head. 'The desire of her mate to see her cured outweighs any other on his mind. If he sees that we have healed her it will further indebt him and their companions to our cause,' said the Lady. 'If Zathrian ends the curse, you will still need protection and a guide to the outside world. This girl will be able to provide you will that.' The Lady placed her hand on Elissa's forehead and focused her magic, seeking out what remained of the mortal child. 'She is nearing her last breath, it will not be long.'

It had been centuries since the Lady had last attempted such a ritual; a young man had ventured into the forest, for what cause, she did not know. Blessed with nature's magic, the man found his way around the forest easily and penetrated the protective mists. Naturally, the werewolves that zealously protected her had attacked; he fought valiantly but the pack had overrun him and he was left for dead with the curse raging through him. Swiftrunner had found him and brought him to the Lady to complete the transformation, but the Lady had sensed the magic in him and instead of letting the curse take him, she had freed him. What became of him after that, she did not know, but this child shared that same blood tie. The ritual had weakened her then as she knew it would weaken her this time, but giving a small part of herself away in the name of preventing yet another becoming one of these beasts was a price she was willing to pay. There was not a soul in the Lady's known world that deserved the fate that Zathrian had inflicted on them of all.

Elissa's heart began racing as the Lady augmented the magic that was killing her; it was a cruel irony that the efforts of her comrades to save her were in fact likely to bring about her death. In any other person, the curse could have been repulsed, but there were Children that were special and once the magic started to flow through their veins there was nothing that could change their forms. The quicker Elissa reached the point of death, the less she would suffer. As the struggle for survival raged on, Elissa's body began to spasm and she cried out for her mate as her body reached its final throes. She tensed before arching upwards as the last breath was pushed from her lungs and then she slumped lifelessly against the flagstones of the floor.

The Lady waited, feeling for the essence of Witherfang, claiming it back within herself before she extended her long fingers above Elissa's body. Drawing from the earth, gathering what power remained, she channelled what energy she had inwards as she spoke an incantation older than the memory of any living mortal being. With each stanza of the incantation, the Lady's voice grew louder as she poured magic into the lifeless vessel, willing it to reclaim the girl's soul and restart her heart and mind. The Lady continued her chant resolutely despite the strain being placed on her by the magic she was channelling through her mortal form, until finally there was a great roar of life that knocked everything off its feet with the force expelled from Elissa's body as the magic exploded within her in a bid to force her flesh back to life.

Everything went still bar the floating dust motes that fell from the eaves of the roof, sparkling in the narrow shafts of sunlight that penetrated the werewolves' dark lair. The Lady lowered her hands to look at the still form of Elissa Theirin, but the girl remained pale and unmoving, her heart silent. The Lady sighed in defeat, stroking Elissa's cheek as a single tear slipped down the Lady's face. The girl had been her only hope in ensuring that the pack would have continued protection once they reverted to their human forms. Swiftrunner and the older members were centuries old, and while not as old as the curse, the world had moved on in their absence and nothing would be as their human memories would recall.

She stood hanging her head as she waited for the werewolves to awaken from the aftershock of her spell.

-...-

The Chantry taught its flock that when the body died, the soul fled its mortal shell and found its place at the Maker's side, unless you were a blood mage and then you were consigned to the Void without exception. Having taken Zevran's poison and fallen into a death-like sleep; Elissa had fully expected to find herself in a mystical, golden hall with some fatherly figure seated upon a great throne with the untold thousands of Andrastians who had died over the nine ages of Chantry dominion clamouring for a place beside the creator of all things. So to find herself reliving every single moment of her life was just a little disappointing.

She watched a girl with bouncing, wavy ginger hair run around a great garden in pursuit of Fergus as he taunted her after taking a favoured doll. He'd been a gangly, slightly clumsy youth, but the advantage of six years made it impossible for the younger girl to catch him and he laughed uproariously as she grew increasingly frustrated by his antics. It was strange to be presented with a time in her life when she conformed to the norm of a young girl; she'd played with dolls and worn a dress willingly whilst in the privacy of Highever. For as long as she could remember, Elissa had found comfort in her drakeskin hunting leathers and wielding her bow as if it were an extra limb. She wondered at what point this red haired girl had decided to abandon her dolls in favour of becoming the woman she was now. It was not as if necessity had made it impossible for Elissa to enjoy the finer things in life or indulge in the feminine arts.

The memory shifted to the day she held a bow for the first time; it was a straight long bow, designed for battle as opposed to the recurve she now owned. She was trying to take aim with the unwieldy bow, but the arrow would not remain in place and from behind her father chuckled in amusement before he took it from her to demonstrate. He told her, as he lifted her up, that with practice and patience she would be the finest bow mistress in all of Ferelden if that was what she desired. Taking her father's advice to heart, she learnt all she could of the art of archery; how to string a bow, to craft arrows, to stalk prey through the woods, and how to kill her targets swiftly and surely with a single shot. Her fascination with the bow and hunting was met with no small amount of consternation from her mother, the great warrior Teryna of Highever who had fought at the side of Queen Rowan, who worried that her daughter's unladylike interests would make it difficult to find her a husband. For her own part, Elissa had scoffed at her mother's fretting; what would she have need of a husband for anyway?

The memory shifted and she found herself peering through the bushes at a tall, dark, handsome boy, no older than her brother as he took aim with his bow. Although she had tutors who claimed she still had much to learn, Elissa did not think so until she saw the awkward angle Nathaniel Howe was aiming at. Elissa shook herself as she watched herself and the eldest Howe; the way she had admired him when she was thirteen, all starry eyed and just a little smitten unnerved her now. Just looking at him, with his father's eyes and nose, her instinctive reaction was to hate him for his very existence despite knowing that he could never have been involved with his father's plot. The rift between father and son was such that it was unlikely that Nathaniel even knew of his father's actions, but still her skin still crawled. Then her thirteen year old self jumped from the bushes and demanded to learn that trick, a trick she now knew was all about angle, concentration and patience.

She skipped through her teen years, pausing only on the happier memories; her brother's marriage and what now seemed like a bizarre first encounter with Zevran, who had scared her slightly when she had been no more than a child. The elf had greeted her with a great flourish, but paid her little heed once she moved down the line of notable guests. He had seemed so exotic when she had been young, with his facial tattoos and gleaming eyes that hinted at a wealth of mysterious, hidden knowledge. It was little wonder that she recognised him straight away when he had ambushed them a few weeks earlier. She had never met another soul quite like him before or since.

Then she was holding Oren for the first time, gingerly taking him in her arms and rocking side to side as the newborn mewled for the breast of his mother. Watching it now it left an ache deep in her belly and despite the pain she felt for Oren's death, it paled in comparison to the surge of grief she felt for her own lost child. It surprised her how much she wanted to give Alistair a child in spite of her past protestations of having no desire for marriage and family.

After that was the first and only time she formally met King Maric, an event that felt even more profound now that she was the wife of his second son. At the time, she had been intimidated by the sheer presence of the King, a man who was as much a myth as real person, particularly when she thought about the fact she used to play at being the great Queen Rowan, the Warrior Queen of Ferelden who had stood at the side of King Maric as they beat back the Orlesians. Her own parents had played their part at the side of the King and Queen, but they were her parents, not legendary figures of national folklore. Elissa watched her younger self curtsey demurely to the King before he greeted her warmly and asked her how she was finding her first time at court. She'd been scared and stuttered over her words, thanking him for meeting her and remarking how nice the palace was. As she stepped away from the King, she noticed the look he gave her father as Loghain watched on in stony silence. Her father nodded discreetly, a movement so slight that she doubted any bar Maric noticed it. The king smiled and turned away, the exchange hinting at plans for her future that had been set long before she became aware of them.

The memories of her life surged forwards once more; King Maric was lost and his eldest son was crowned and wed, marking the dawn of a new age for Ferelden where the attention of the nation became focused on the young scions of the great noble families for the first time. The prestige and honour of the Couslands was second only to royalty, and as the only unwed child of such a noble house, Elissa became the most eligible marriage prospect in Ferelden, with every son of the Bannorn vying for her attention. Her reputation as a true beauty and the closest thing Ferelden had to a Princess also attracted interest from foreign shores. Princes from the Free Marches, the fabulously wealthy merchants of Antiva, titled chevalier lords of Orlais, as well as the marriageable sons of every Arl and Bann in the realm, bestowed lavish gifts on her in the hope of gaining her favour; jewels, necklaces, expensive material for dresses of her choice were politely accepted and then passed on to those who needed them far more than she did, for she was not a woman whose affection could be won with costly trinkets. Vivid memories of her marital pursuit assailed her; elaborate parties filled with social intrigue as young lords sought to claim her with promises of love and affection and stolen kisses were interspersed with recollections of long tiring days spent at the archer's butt mastering her chosen craft. While she could admit to experiencing a certain degree of enjoyment at being so lavished with attention, she was also acutely aware that to accept any of these offers was to seal her fate.

She knew that once a marriage contract was made, she would be bound to that man for life, and out of all the men she had met, there were precious few who would tolerate a wife with a passion for the unladylike practice of archery and hunt-craft. But that wasn't the real reason that every potential match gave her cause for concern. Elissa wanted to marry for love as her parents and brother had done. She wanted to love and be loved; to know the meaning of those secret smiles and gentle touches that loving couple's shared.

And then it was Cloudreach in the thirtieth year of the Dragon Age.

For several days throughout the Landsmeet the rose gardens had given her cause for concern. For some reason that she could not pinpoint, the flowers did not seem to be that their best despite having only just bloomed. She didn't have much to do with the cultivation of the gardens in Highever, but she enjoyed them as a place of peace when she could. She had been walking among the rows of flowers examining them every so often when a voice called out her name. She glanced up to see Thomas Howe striding purposefully towards her. Two years younger than she and the spitting image of his father, Elissa had already made it clear than she had no intention of even considering marriage to the ambitious young man. His 'sporting' activities with Vaughan Kendells were an open secret among the nobility and that made him as even more unattractive marriage proposition. Still she stood as tall as she could, refusing to be intimidated by the whelp. From this angle, viewing the events as they had happened, it was fascinating; Elissa concentrated not on Howe, but on events that, while they had appeared peripheral at the time, now held far greater meaning.

He had just been passing through; one of those strange occurrences where someone was in just the right place at the right time, as if fate had put them there for just that moment. Watching the altercation, Alistair had been visibly torn between refraining from intervening in the affairs of the nobility and yielding to his natural inclination to come to the aid of a person in need. The sight of Howe backhanding Elissa made his choice for him, an expression of barely contained fury washing over his usually good humoured face as he moved to interrupt the assault. With an effortless grace born of years of daily weapons training, Alistair drew his sword and levelled the tip at Howe's throat.

'I suggest you unhand her Ladyship, Ser. Or I promise you will regret it.' he said with an evenness that belied the adrenaline that permeated every fibre of his being.

At the sound of his voice, Elissa felt everything in her melt away save for the singular desire to be reunited with him once more. She would have to wait lifetime to be reunited with him again and even then, who was to say that he would not have moved on, she becoming nothing but a distant memory. Tears slid from her eyes before dripping onto her cheeks as she contemplated the magnitude of her folly. She had always known she was stubborn; her mother complained of it saying it would lead her to no good. But Elissa could not help but be angry as she listen to Alistair and Daylen talk about her as if she were no more than an object to be directed. Despite knowing Alistair was right, she had shunned his concern to prove him wrong and to prove that she could do something of this magnitude. After suffering injury after injury on the road, Elissa had felt helpless when sizing herself up to the others. But this presented something she could do and so she had surged forward without thought straight into the jaws of death.

The memory shifted once more to a warm Bloomingtide day, barely a month after the incident in the garden; it was Summerday, the day she and Alistair had been wed. The afternoon had passed with joyous celebrations and evening found them in their new shared quarters in Denerim's Royal Palace, becoming acquainted with one another in the manner of new husbands and wives since time immemorial. Alistair was kissing her tenderly as he held her and between each kiss they smiled as if they were sharing some great secret between them; that secret was that they were in love with one another and tonight, they would lie together as husband and wife. She didn't need to watch, the exquisite memory of their first night together was clear in her mind and it was a memory worth savouring, not merely watching. She remembered every nervous touch, each whispered word, including the first time they had confessed their love for the other. Their first time together was a little uncomfortable, the tearing of her maidenhead more painful that she though it would be, but it had felt perfect as they had encouraged each other to overcome their anxieties as they tentatively learned how to please each other.

More regret, borne from being torn from all she loved, exploded in her heart; they should have been so happy together, raising a family of their own in Highever, away from the pressures and demands of royal life. Then she was on her knees before a birch tree with all that remained of her shattered dream and she heard a strange cry followed by a roar in her ears that was like the very start of life; an experience that was denied from the memories of all living beings. Feeling flooded her from heart down to her legs, exploding and bringing her limbs to life as she seemed to arch upwards, straining for air and sucking in something putrid from a dank cavern that reeked of stale animals and rotting excrement. She gasped again as a strange warmth permeated her entire being and she opened her eyes to see the back of a creature that seemed so impossible she wondered if she had not gone to the afterlife after all.

'Who are you?' Elissa asked the branch entwined being.

It turned to looked at her, appraising her with an inscrutable gaze that spoke of ancient, alien wisdom before smiling warmly and offering a bark-encrusted hand.

'I am the Lady of the Forest,' it replied. 'Welcome, sister.'


	22. The Heart of the Forest VII

_20th Firstfall, 9:30 (Afternoon)_

_The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden._

The journey back to the upper levels of the ruin seemed interminable for Alistair; each step took him further and further from his beloved, who remained at the brink of death. He was assailed by terrible feelings of guilt at leaving her behind, but the spirit seemed so sincere and confident of her ability to save her that he decided to trust this Lady, even though it meant going against everything he had been trained to believe. Yet at the same time, he knew that he would never be able to forgive himself the ritual was unsuccessful and she died in his absence. If she were to die here, then he wanted her to die in his arms, held and surrounded by his love as she deserved. That another cruel twist of fate had snatched Elissa from him when he had only just found her again left him feeling bereft; perhaps this was all some test for him to prove his mettle? Could he remain focused and true to his mission without her by his side?

He glanced back in the direction they had travelled from, steadfastly ignoring Wynne who took the opportunity to give him a disapproving look. He turned back to focus on their current mission, but he could not help but think that maybe she was right and they were exposing Elissa to something terrible. He bit down on his fears, forcing himself to believe that this was the only course that could save her and that any consequences would be his to bear. Zathrian would not heal her, he knew that much, and even if he were disposed to do so, Alistair would not trust him with his wife's life. Yet he trusted an ancient spirit and leader of the very creatures that had put Elissa in this predicament? Even he had to admit that it did make much sense; it was certainly not the most conventional decision he had ever made, and when he really thought about it, it bordered on the absurd. He was using ancient unexplained magic to heal his wife, the Queen of Ferelden, in the clear knowledge that when she woke she would be irrevocably changed. It wasn't the sort of decision that boded well for his future as King.

They reached the upper ruins to discover Zathrian already within the entrance chamber, having followed them after their truce with the werewolves. The group fanned out in a semicircle as they approached the elf. For his part, Zathrien seemed unperturbed by their aggressive posture and hostile demeanour. His gaze passed over each of them in turn, apparently oblivious to the fact that one of their party was missing; Alistair surmised that he simply did not care enough about any of them to notice that one of their number was in danger of being lost in the name of his cause. All evidence suggested that Zathrian was simply indifferent to the suffering his obsession with vengeance caused.

Cassius, who had reluctantly left his mistress' side to protect her mate, growled and snapped at Zathrian, moving into a position to lunge at the ancient Keeper and rip his throat out. Alistair would have allowed the War Hound his sport, Maker knew he wanted to run his sword through Zathrian's gut for what he had done but he had made a vow to the spirit that he would bring the duplicitous Keeper to her in exchange for an attempt to save Elissa's life, and he intended to honour his word. He grabbed the War Hound by his collar and commanded him back; the dog reluctantly heeled beside Alistair but not without letting his displeasure at being denied be known with a snarl at Alistair.

The elf focused on Daylen, who stood side by side with Alistair at the centre of the group. While the werewolves acknowledged Alistair as the de facto leader due to his bond to Elissa, Zathrian recognised the Grey Warden as the leader of the group. 'Do you have the heart?' he asked expectantly.

'There have been some developments,' Daylen said darkly, glowering at the architect of the group's misery. 'One of our number has become infected with the curse.'

Zathrien looked around the group as if seeing them for the first time, before his gaze finally fell on Cassius. 'The girl, your tracker,' he said, remembering the young red haired girl who had calmed the hound in the camp. He looked at Daylen. 'I would be able to heal her with the heart of Witherfang.'

'The spirit that resides within this ruin disagrees,' said Alistair trying to keep his anger at the elf in check.

A smile curved on Zathrian's face, cruel and mocking. 'You realise the spirit is Witherfang? Has she has tricked you into believing that what I have to offer will not help her?'

Alistair crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at the elf. 'I think it is you that has tricked us,' he said darkly. 'You didn't tell us of your involvement in the curse. You also implied that there were no others clans that could have helped us when there are others in Ferelden.'

'Do not blame me for your woeful lack of knowledge regarding my people,' replied Zathrian dismissively. 'Were you not so desperate for allies you would not have pursued this route. You knew it would be dangerous; you attempted to prevent your bond-mate from acting as your guide. I must say, I was impressed with her skill.' He shook his head with the merest hint of sadness. 'The lot of you have far more mettle than I gave you credit for. I certainly underestimated you.'

'You are not the first,' said Zevran. Although his tone was mild, his eyes were deeply hostile as he regarded the Keeper. 'But I doubt they will show you the same mercy they showed me. Particularly when they realise you sent us here with the express desire of seeing us dead.'

Zathrian glared at the Crow. 'My, you are perceptive,' he said, a smile quirking on his lips.

'Does he speak the truth?' asked Daylen, quiet anger starting to course through him.

'You think I want any part in your war, Grey Warden?' asked Zathrian viciously. 'You think I wish to place my people under the command of humans? Do not think I do not know your plan, to put us into war first in a bid to rid Thedas of the Dalish.'

'Yes, that was entirely our plan,' said Alistair, his voice dark, mocking and angry all the same time. Then he shook his head. 'This Blight effects all of us and we must work together to defeat it or no one will have anything left.'

He drew his sword slowly and the elf watched him warily.

'You'll have no hope of saving the girl if you kill me,' Zathrian said.

Alistair opened his mouth to reply when what felt like an aftershock hit them, throwing them slightly, dislodging centuries of dust that had accumulated, and showering them rubble and dust from the ceiling. Alistair lifted his arm to protect his head while Kallian pulled Daylen out of the way of a particularly large piece of falling debris. When the dust cleared a little, Zathrian was shaking his head with a vicious smirk on his face.

'It is too late for her now,' said the elf. 'No doubt her essence has fled leaving only a hollow shell for the spirit to take so that she might have a human form to trick more unsuspecting mortals into her clutches.'

Alistair took a deep, determined breath as he levelled his sword at Zathrian's throat. He would not speculate on Elissa's survival until he could see what had happened for himself. 'You are coming with us and we're going to see this ended once and for all.'

Zathrian turned to Daylen. 'You allow an insubordinate give the orders?' he asked derisively.

Daylen chuckled humourlessly. 'Didn't anyone tell you? He's the King of Ferelden.' Daylen smirked viciously at the elf. 'You'll follow us and you will do so without comment and as His Majesty says, we're going to see this ended.'

-…-

'You have many questions,' said the Lady.

Elissa glanced up from where she sat trying to recover from the disorientation of her revival, but making sense of her surroundings was made difficult by the pounding headache that was left in its wake. Horror had initially filled the Queen of Ferelden when she found herself in a cavern full of werewolves, until the Lady of the Forest held out her hand and Elissa saw pale human skin. The Lady had explained the bargain she had struck with Alistair to bring her back from death and curing her of the curse. A torrent of emotion had filled her as she had listened, struggling to comprehend what she had been told. It seemed so unlikely that Alistair, the Templar trained King of Ferelden, would turn to unknown magic to bring her back from the jaws of oblivion, yet he had taken the risk to save her. The Lady had explained that she would be changed, but how she had yet to elaborate, allowing Elissa the time required to gather her wits as she sorted her thoughts out through the haze of magic that lingered in her newly awakened body.

But every train of thought led her back to the fact she was human and her husband had saved her by accepting an unorthodox route that properly went against everything he had ever learnt. She could not help the glowing feeling she felt in her heart for the man who had claimed her heart and soul.

'Yes,' Elissa replied, 'but I don't know where to start.'

Around them, the werewolves suddenly began to snarl and pace in agitation. The Lady diverted her attention from Elissa to the door on the other side of the cavern. A door? Elissa looked up again but there didn't seem to be much of anything to see. She had assumed they were in some sort of cave, but perhaps she was wrong

'He comes,' she said enigmatically. 'I rather suspect it was forced, but no matter, it is time to see this ended.' Around her, the werewolves gathered, growling and roaring as the source of their torment came nearer and nearer. 'Remember, we want an end. Do not give him the chance to deny us.'

Elissa gingerly rose to her feet, blinking against the sensation of blood rushing to her head as she tested her weight for the first time since waking. Satisfied that she would remain on her feet, she huddled in the cloak that covered the tattered remains of the leathers she wore. As her head cleared of the sudden blood rush, a new sensation filled her; she could feel each soul that was bound to the curse she had been released from. Each of them were screaming in spiritual agony against the unnatural form they had been forced into. She looked at them all individually, turning in a circle to look at the beasts that had come so close to being her brethren.

'You see, don't you,' said the Lady, 'the twisted horrors they have been forced to become. With your aid and that of your companions, we will all have the chance to be free again.'

'I doubt he will be persuaded,' growled Swiftrunner, from his place at her side.

'He has been brought this far,' replied the Lady in a soothing voice, 'there is every chance that he could be persuaded further now that his clan suffers in common with us.' She looked at Elissa. 'If Zathrian breaks the curse, then not only will his people be free of the curse that spreads to them but we will also be free. We bear his clan no ill will, but after centuries of suffering, bound to forms that do not belong to us, we had to do something to force the issue.'

Elissa nodded. 'I understand,' she said sadly. 'But had you not attacked, then you would have saved a lot of needless suffering.'

The Lady nodded. 'We would also have saved unnecessary suffering had Swiftrunner listened to your plea of parley, as I suggested he should have,' she said. 'Your exposure to the curse was a regrettable complication that made the task of awakening the power of your blood much more hazardous than it should have been. Taking you beyond the brink of death and then returning you was fraught with danger. When you failed to respond, I thought that I had failed. That you were able find your way back speaks of a powerful desire to live; you have something within your heart that holds you in this world.'

Elissa smiled to herself, she knew what lived within her heart and drove her. She had felt it in those desperate moments as her memories turned to her beloved, her only desire being to remain at his side through all the trials that were still before them. A few weeks ago she would have said revenge and duty drove her, but her desire for revenge had dimmed as she remembered what it was to be loved again. Opening her heart and allowing it to be filled with warmth and love had given her the will to keep going when all seemed lost. She remembered her terrible conversation with Aneirin, when all she could think of was Alistair and just spending every moment she could with him. She shook herself from her reverie, as the door they were all focused on opened.

The elf entered first, striding with great arrogance as he marched into the chamber, his staff clicking as with each alternate step. Given his furious expression, Elissa felt some panic rise in her chest; had the others conceded to Zathrian at some point, allowing him this behaviour? He glared at the Lady, paying no heed to the beasts around her or to Elissa, who felt small and insignificant compared to the hulking beasts that surrounded her.

The others filed in after with Alistair leading them; he had a look of cold, grim determination in his eyes and he remained focused on Zathrian to the degree that even he didn't notice Elissa. That he failed to acknowledge her spoke volumes about his present state of mind; he always noticed her, his eyes would almost always slide to where she was no matter what the situation: such was the magnetic force of attraction between them. Her own gaze shot back to Zathrian, fearing that the elf had told them something to make them believe that she had perhaps died, or worse, become possessed. Behind Alistair, the rest of their companions filed in, equally grim faced as Zathrian approached the spirit.

'So here you are spirit,' said Zathrian, his voice mocking her.

Swiftrunner's hackles rose and he growled as he lunged forward. 'She is the Lady of the Forest and you will address her properly,' he snarled, before dropping back to his place beside the Lady.

Zathrian's gaze turned to the werewolves, his expression moved to disgust as he took in the scene. The werewolves surrounded the Lady in a protective cordon with Swiftrunner at her side but just a little bit behind her; a Queen and her Consort standing side by side as they readied to do battle against the elf. Then Zathrian's gazed settled on Elissa. It was difficult to stand tall and proud when she was swathed in a cloak that was too big for her and covering her tattered leathers, but she levelled her gaze back at him until he turned back to the Lady.

'You've taken a name, spirit? And you've given names to your pets? And what of the girl?' His eyes flicked back to Elissa; he was assessing her and feeling out her altered nature now that she was removed from the curse but still connected to the Lady. 'A minion to do your bidding? Is that why you saved her?' He laughed cruelly. 'I have to admit, you've chosen well, a Queen of the shemlen bent to your will.'

'It was they who gave me a name Zathrian,' said the spirit softly, her sweeping gesture indicating the werewolves that surrounded her, 'and the names they take are their own.' Then her gaze too drifted to Elissa. 'As for the girl, she is free. She is no more bound to me than anything else that walks in all the realms of this world.'

'You expect me to believe that you have not bound this girl to your will as your pets are? Why else would they follow you?' asked Zathrian.

'They follow me because I help them find who they are,' the spirit replied, her voice remaining serene in spite of Zathrien's persistent goading.

'Who they are is no different to what their ancestors were,' spat Zathrian, his words dripping with scorn and disgust. 'Nothing but wild, savage beasts! This form only matches their monstrous hearts. I come here for one thing only; Witherfang's heart, that is all.'

'He has come to kill you Lady,' hissed Swiftrunner, shifting in agitation as he tried to hold onto his reason rather than give in to the primal urge to kill the elf in protection of his Lady. 'It is as you have said.'

The Lady looked at Alistair. 'And what of you mortal?' she asked. 'After all you have seen and heard do you support Zathrian?'

'You have both been complicit in terrible, needless acts of violence that have only seen innocent lives destroyed,' he replied in a measured voice full of authority. His eyes went to Elissa; she smiled softly to reassure him that she was not under the control of an outside force, as Zathrian had insinuated. 'However, I would rather see a peaceful solution, if that is at all possible.'

'Peace?' said Zathrian rounding on Alistair. 'There can be no peace, their nature commands it, just as mine does.'

'Surely it does not have to be this way. There is room in your heart for compassion, Zathrian. Surely your retribution is spent?' asked the Lady, walking towards him, pleading with him to see sense.

The elf merely glowered. 'My retribution is eternal, as is my pain,' he replied, his voice dark with ancient anger. 'This is justice, no more.'

'This is not justice,' said Elissa quietly. 'This is revenge, cruel, selfish revenge. Were this justice you would be able to find peace in your heart, but you know no peace only anger and hatred.'

'I did this for my people,' he said rounding on Elissa. 'I did it for my son, my daughter, for them, for justice I would do anything.'

She shook her head sadly.

'What do you know of such pain and grief? To see the bloodied remains of your child; hold them in your arms knowing that nothing will ever be right again?' Zathrian demanded of Elissa. 'Would you not seek the death and torment of those who had done that and make their suffering eternal?'

Elissa looked at the elf, in his eyes she could see the swirling anger and hurt of his loss still raging. She knew the pain he felt and she understood his desire to see justice delivered, a quickly exchanged glance with Alistair confirmed that he understood Zathrian's position, but that limited empathy was mixed in with disgust at the level of violence the elf had inflicted on innocent souls for centuries. She knew that Alistair would set his mind to the downfall of Howe when the time came, but she also knew that no one else would ever suffer for the man's crimes against them. With the end of Howe's life, would come justice for her family and lost child and from that they could take solace.

'But they are not the ones who are suffering,' replied Elissa. 'Their suffering ended a long time ago. Now you inflict your retribution on people who wander haplessly into the forest, your own clan and even someone who offered to help you. How is that justice?'

'When you know of such pain, shem, I will ask you for your opinion,' spat back Zathrian.

'Are you certain that this pain is not the only reason you will not end this curse?' asked the Lady. 'Have you told the mortals how the curse was created?'

'No,' said Alistair, 'he did not, but he has told us that you and Witherfang are the same. It was you, or at least part of you that was bound to the wolf.'

'Indeed it is so,' agreed the spirit. 'Witherfang and I are bound as one spirit, but such powerful magic could not be accomplished without Zathrian's own blood.' The Lady turned on Zathrian. 'Your people believe you have rediscovered the immortality of your ancestors, but that is not true. As long as the curse exists, so do you.'

Elissa bristled a little at the news; she had known that there was more to his eternal youth that the Clan had let on to, but it was also likely that not even Zathrian's First knew of curse he had created. Zathrian shook his head vehemently. 'That is not how it is.'

But the Lady ignored him, turning to the others, glancing at Elissa as she spoke so that they would all understand. 'His life relies on its existence. However, I think his death does play a part in its ending.'

Swiftrunner's demeanour was overflowing with agitation, as were his fellow werewolves, who growled and snapped in hostility as they tried to keep themselves in check as the Lady had bidden them to. 'Then we kill him now, tear him apart.'

Zathrian looked at Elissa. 'Do you see what they truly are? For all their powers of speech,' he turned back to the Lady, 'you are all nothing but beasts possessed of minor intelligence. What will you gain from killing me? Only I know how the ritual ends, and I will never do it. You kill me, then you will have changed nothing. I come here for your heart and I will have it.' He readied himself with his staff for battle.

As he spoke, several weapons were unsheathed behind him. 'You may wish to rethink your position,' Alistair said quietly, his tone imbued with an unspoken but discernible threat.

'You think you can stop me from killing this beast?' Zathrian asked Alistair as he indicated to the Lady. 'You have no idea how much power runs through my veins, magic from the elvhen, the Fade, and the very fabric of the earth lie at my command. I will kill you all, like the beasts you are.'

He raised his hand and gestured expansively as a blast of force hurled everyone away from him. Taking advantage of the confusion generated by his initial attack, Zathrian began casting again, calling to the resources at hand to aid him and fight for his cause; the deep roots of the trees that lined the cave came to life, reaching out to ensnare those who Zathrian deemed his enemies. Elissa pushed herself up into a sitting up position just in time to see these roots take hold of a werewolf around the throat and chest, pulling it back with unnatural speed so that it was killed on impact with the wall of the cavern. In the din, Elissa could make out Swiftrunner order his pack to fight the roots back.

Satisfied that he had dealt with the immediate threat of the werewolves, Zathrian turned his attention to Daylen, Alistair and the other companions, raising his arms and preparing to unleash another spell. As Elissa struggled to regain her feet in the wake of Zathrian's initial attack, the air in the chamber suddenly changed as the ancient elven mage exerted his will, summoning cracking waves of electricity that began to arc wildly around the chamber, striking targets seemingly at random. Elissa looked about her for a weapon of some sort, momentarily at a loss without the bow she nearly always kept with her. Finding nothing of use, she remembered the dagger she had kept concealed in her boot since the sacking of Highever. She pulled it free and launched herself at the elf as he turned his lightning towards Alistair and her friends.

However, Alistair was more than prepared for the attack and unleashed one of the most powerful Holy Smites Elissa had ever seen him produce. A wave of cleansing energy burst forth from her husband's body, radiating out across the chamber and snuffing out all the magic being used as the Fade was placed temporary out of reach of the mages and the magic died, but Elissa, for the first time since she had woken up, felt everything with more clarity.

She could not help a smirk as Daylen cursed loudly at Alistair for accidently rendering him magically impotent, but that amusement lasted mere seconds before she plunged her dagger into Zathrian's ribs, causing the elf to stagger momentarily before he spun, bringing his staff around to hit her in the face. Hand still on her dagger, it came free as she staggered back, pain blooming over her cheek as she tripped and hit the ground with a painful thud, pain exploding in the hand she had used to break her fall. She lifted her hand to cradle it, frowning at the pain that blossomed there, snaking up her arm.

Elissa looked up to meet those soft, brown eyes looking at her with great concern and the breath flew from her lungs from the familiarity of the moment. Without breaking eye contact, he sheathed his sword and reached out, offering her a hand to stand up. She reached up with no hesitation and he easily pulled her to her feet, and just like he had before, on that fateful day in Denerim, his other hand went to her waist to steady her, only this time when their eyes met they didn't shy away from each other as they had done before. He let go of her hand and gently pushed back a lock of hair from her face as his eyes searched hers. 'My love,' he said in a soft voice before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

The kiss was full of promises for later, for after they had dealt with the mess that surrounded them. He reluctantly released her to turn to face the treacherous elf. Zathrian looked between the couple that had so easily overcome him. Glowering, he raised a hand to strike again but his power was spent. Elissa turned to look at her husband who smirked at her and she realised that he was now maintaining a block to the Fade in a bid to force the mage into submission.

Somehow, he looked even more intimating standing over the elf without his sword drawn as he channelled all that energy the Chantry had taught him to harness. 'Yield,' he demanded of the elven keeper.

Zathrian looked at Alistair with utter contempt; he was everything he hated all rolled into the one package. He was a King and therefore represented the human authority that had destroyed the Dalish, but his templar abilities also had the power to render Zathrian absolutely helpless. He bowed his head, desperately trying to devise some means he could employ to turn the battle in his favour, but he knew that as long as the Templar barred his access to the Fade, all of his much vaunted power was lost. He looked up, hatred and anger flashing in his eyes, but he had no choice. 'I yield,' he conceded. 'I have no way to fight that. The talent you possess…'

Swiftrunner howled triumphantly at the sight of his enemy prostrate before them. Having recovered from the elven Keeper's magical attack, he advanced towards the elf with slow, menacing steps. 'Finish it,' the werewolf leader demanded in a voice filled with eager bloodlust. 'Finish it now.' He made to pounce as Leliana yelled in protest.

The Lady of the Forest held her hand out to stop Swiftrunner. 'No, we will not kill him,' she commanded softly. 'If there is no room in our hearts for mercy than how can we expect there to be room in his?'

'I cannot do as you ask, spirit,' said Zathrian. 'I am too old to know mercy. All I see are the faces of my children, my people… I cannot do it.'

Elissa looked down at the elf kneeling before her, torn between disgust and pity, before turning to look at Alistair. They both had scores to settle with men who had wronged them and they knew all too well what it was to hunger for vengeance; to seek out and destroy those who had wronged them, to bring their enemies low and to see the light of life fade from their eyes as they enacted their retribution. While they had both promised the other that they would not seek revenge on their enemies, she wondered when it came to it, would either be able to resist? Looking at Zathrian, and seeing what his insatiable desire for vengeance had wrought, she realised that yes, she would be able to forgo vengeance in the name of justice. Who would want to become as bitter and twisted as this creature? If this was the price of vengeance, it was too high. 'Hasn't this gone on long enough? Haven't enough people suffered?' she asked quietly.

Zathrian looked at her. 'Perhaps I have lived too long,' he acknowledged. 'This hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root. It has consumed my soul.' He looked at the spirit. 'What of you? You are bound to the curse as I am. Do you not fear your end?'

The Lady considered, looking at the Zathrian, her werewolves and the group of people who had somehow brought her to this moment. 'You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none had existed for thousands of years. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things,' she said softly, 'I desire nothing more than an end. I beg you, maker… put an end to me. Let me know release. We beg you… show mercy.'

Zathrian gazed at the manifested spirit in amazement. 'You shame me,' he said, hanging his head.

'Then you will do it? You will end the curse?'

The ancient elf suddenly looked so old, all the vigour he had shown evaporating under the strain of facing the truth of his actions. 'Perhaps it is time, to put an end to all this. Perhaps there is freedom from my own pain in ending this.'

The whole atmosphere of the room changed; Elissa and the others felt like intruders as the werewolves crowded around their Lady, reaching out for her. She had brought peace to all who surrounded her, guiding them through their dark transition from mindless beast into something that found meaning and purpose. Elissa felt a great pang of gratitude in her own heart, knowing the spirit had brought her back from the brink, giving her life when it had seemed she would surely die. The Lady touched each of the werewolves in turn, caressing them like a mother, hushing them until they parted and the Lady came face to face with Elissa.

She loosened her hand from Alistair's and stepped forward, bowing her head. 'Thank you,' she said to the Lady when they were close enough.

'I have but one thing to ask of you,' replied the spirit. 'When the curse is lifted, the werewolves will revert back to a human form. They will need guidance and protection from one that understands their plight.'

Elissa glanced back at Alistair who nodded his head. 'We will both do all we can for them, so long as they live and so long as they desire the aid.'

'That is all that I can ask of you,' she replied before returning to the podium. She faced Zathrian and nodded her head. 'We are ready.'

The elf raised his arms and began chanting. Elissa felt a shift as a channel to the earth opened, while Daylen frowned as his own sense to the Fade was assailed by the powerful magic that Zathrian was calling. As she stepped back, Elissa reached for Alistair's hand, squeezing it tightly as Zathrian channelled the energy through himself, releasing the spirit from the two forms she had been divided into. As Zathrian slumped to the floor, the Lady looked on in horror, her branch entwined hands covering her mouth.

Swiftrunner whined before he caressed the spirit's shoulder. Then a great light engulfed the spirit and her werewolves and the power seeped out of her, spiralling out and touching all who had been afflicted by the curse. Elissa felt the rush of the forest as the spirit dissipated and hurried back into the wilds where it belonged, touching the trees, hedges, rocks and streams as it went. The group were forced to cover their eyes and look away, but when the great rush was over they opened their eyes and turned to find themselves face to face with about forty men and women, human and elf alike, all looking at each other reaching out and hugging one another despite their naked, dishevelled state.

'They are going to need some clothes,' muttered Kallian, her eyes flicking over their naked forms. 'It's freezing out there.'

Leliana laughed under her breath. 'An unexpected turn up for the books,' she remarked. 'We don't have enough between us to help them. I don't suppose the Dalish would help?'

'Would certainly be an interesting conversation, for sure,' mused Daylen. 'Here's the body of your dead keeper, by the way do you have some clothes that we can give to the men and women who were once the werewolves that attacked you.'

'They might feel compelled to help the elves,' Elissa muttered, looking at the ones with the distinctive Dalish tattoos on their faces. 'But the others? The Maker only knows.' She looked around at the cavern they were in. 'What is this place anyway?'

'An elven ruin of some sort,' said Alistair. 'We don't really know.'

The man who had once been Swiftrunner approached them, his eyes, a stone grey, focused on Elissa and Alistair. 'You saved us,' he rasped. 'I was wrong about you, for that I am sorry.' Elissa nodded accepting his apology. 'The Lady has left you with a great gift; I hope you will use it well.'

'It is a great gift in more ways than one,' replied Elissa. 'What is it you intent to do now? Ferelden is in need of good people, if you are willing to help us, then there is a place to be found.'

'Life will have moved on from what most of us remember,' he said, 'but it was the Lady's desire that we follow you.'

'At the moment, I can't even offer you clothing,' she said drawing attention to her own wrecked leathers that were far beyond repair. 'But once we are free of the forest, I might be able to find you lodgings, food and clothes.' Alistair gave her a curious look. 'We are not far from South Reach and I would almost bet my life on Arl Bryland supporting us over Loghain when he hears of what happened at Ostagar.'

'Don't bet your life on anything, ever,' said Alistair quietly. 'Not after all this.'

Elissa squeezed his hand and nodded her head, sincere in her deference on the matter. She had decided somewhere in the last few days that if she survived this, she'd never act so headstrongly again.

'There maybe supplies within the Temple,' suggested the former werewolf. 'Perhaps there may be something salvageable to be found.'

Alistair nodded in agreement. 'A few of us can go and have a look around,' he said. 'But we'll have no light until the morning.'

'The caverns down here will be warm enough for us, but perhaps you would be more comfortable in the upper ruins.'

Elissa nodded. 'We cannot be far from our camp. We could bring our bedrolls and what supplies we have.'

'There will be no need to share,' said Swiftrunner. 'In the morning, we will decide how best to proceed.'

He loped back to the group who were regarding Elissa and the other's with equal amounts of curiosity before the smaller group slipped from the cavern and headed for the higher ruins.

-…-

To their complete surprise, they emerged from the ruins to discover that an entire day had passed since they had descended into the werewolves' lair. Outside, the afternoon sun was rapidly descending towards the horizon as dusk settled over the Brecilian Forest. Elissa looked out at the tree surrounding the ruins; the mists had dissipated, and while this forest would never be particularly safe, the haunted, foreboding quality that pervaded it previously was noticeably absent. She did not know how long it would take for the spirit to reassert itself within the forest, particularly as the Blight wound its way up through the roots of the forest, but Elissa hoped that one day it would be able to heal the torn veil and reclaim the land for its own. They collected their belongings from the makeshift camp they had left earlier in the day and returned to the ruin, grateful to be able to sleep somewhere sheltered.

Leliana discovered that the ruin was located close to a stream, so after the others had filled up their water skins, Elissa returned to the stream armed with soap, fresh clothes that Leliana had brought with her and a husband who was unlikely to ever let her out of his sight again. Despite knowing the water would be freezing, Elissa was determined to wash away as much of the dried blood, dirt, and grime as she could before allowing Wynne to tend to the still healing injuries.

Alistair was silent as he watched over her, lost in his own thoughts that he did not seem to want to share. Had she not been so keen to get herself clean, Elissa might have asked him about what was troubling him. No doubt there was a lot playing on his mind and to be honest, she wondered if it might be better for him to work it all out in his own mind before discussing it with him. His attention was diverted when she cried out; the water was so cold that when it hit the gashes and bite marks on her shoulder, it felt like she was being burnt. Realising that was she was not in any danger but that her injuries were causing her pain, he stripped out of his shirt and rolled his breaches to his knees before wading in after her. His breath hitched as the frigid water hit his legs but by the time he reached Elissa he was inured to it. He caught her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist and gently pulling her back against his chest. One hand gently caressed her stomach as his other hand pushed her filthy hair aside. His touch was gentle across the space where their child should have been growing, silently conveying his sorrow for their shared loss. She was expecting him to ask her why she had not told him before she lay dying in his arms, but that was not on his mind.

'Would you make them suffer for all eternity?' Alistair asked her. 'The Howes?'

She shook her head. 'Nathaniel could not have known and Delilah would not have condoned this. Even Thomas may be an innocent party in this,' she said. 'Why should they suffer? Why should any child born to them suffer when they have no part in the crimes of their grand sire?'

Alistair took the soft cloth from Elissa's hand and began dabbing at the gashes and scrapes that ran from her shoulder down her back to her hips. 'I want him dead, Liss,' he said. 'I can't even deny that it would give me great pleasure to see him die by my own hand. He took your family, your home and our child. Part of me understands Zathrian's anger and how it lasted so long, but another side of me is horrified and if that is what the desire for revenge could do to someone, I'd rather see him swing on the gallows.'

'What of Loghain?'

'I don't know,' he admitted as he began working on her other shoulder, carefully dabbing at the bite marks that had nearly stolen her from him forever. 'Cailan was as much to blame for his own demise as Loghain, he is also as equally responsible for the needless death of hundreds at Ostagar.'

He didn't admit it, but since seeing those documents in the camp at Ostagar and piecing everything together, his rage for Loghain had lessened to the extent that he did not want to storm the palace and murder the man where he stood. His punishment would still be death; there was no getting around the fact that Loghain's actions were treason. But he would set himself above the man and do it properly, just as Elissa had asked him to when he thought she was going to die.

'Why are you doing this?' she asked as he took the soap and began lathering it in his hands.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck where she had not been injured. 'Because I love you,' he said. 'Because I had to let you die and I am never going to fail you like that again.' He kissed the other side of her neck. 'Because you are my love, my wife, and my Queen.' He turned her around so she was facing him. 'Can we agree that when I tell you I don't want you doing something because it could kill you, you agree not to do it? Your pride isn't worth your life Elissa.' His hands moved up her arms, lathering the soap into her arms, the down over her chest. 'When it comes to your safety, your wellbeing, I vowed to protect you,' he said. 'So let me.'

She nodded; in all of her life she had never felt so wretched as she had when she realised her own pride had brought her to the point of death.

Alistair stopped working and pulled her into his arms resting his forehead against hers. 'It went against everything in me to agree to let you die to bring you back, but I promised myself that I would do anything, pay anything, even give my own life to keep you alive.'

Her reaction to that confession was not what he expected. Her hand came up and she slapped him hard across the cheek. His head snapped to the side and he looked at her stunned as he rubbed the cheek that was stinging sharply from her assault. She was gazing at him with stricken green eyes. 'How dare you,' she said, her voice choked with barely contained emotion. 'What makes you think I want to wake up in any world to find my life has been paid for by your blood? What makes you think I could live after that?'

The look in his eyes was hard and dark as he recovered from the painful slap. He grabbed her roughly and pulled back to his chest, capturing her lips in a rough and punishing kiss, tugging at her lips with his teeth. He only had the presence of mind not to lift his hands to her injured back, but he squeezed her buttocks hard enough that she cried out beneath his grasp, pushing his hips against her as the desire to possess her shot through him. Had she not had the deep gashes on her back he would have taken her, claiming her until her only thought was of their perfect, blissful union. But he let that fire cool, knowing that it could be saved for another day. His lips left hers to nip her just behind the ear. 'Then don't put me in the position where I have to make such a decision,' he said in a deep, husky tone that was tinged with an emotion she could not place. 'Never again, Elissa.'

She was trembling as they pulled apart, although whether it was from the assault of emotions or the chill of the water, Elissa did not know. The moment broken, Alistair's expression softened as he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 'Turn around,' he said, 'let's get your hair washed.'

-…-

The camp was not as joyous as it should have been, given than no one bar the one person who deserved to die had died. Elissa was still alive, whole, and aware of everything that had passed, and to Kallian that was worthy of celebration, but Wynne remained unconvinced. An argument had erupted between Wynne and Daylen over the matter, Wynne claiming the Warden had acted irrationally in siding with Morrigan and allowing Elissa to be saved in such a manner.

'You cannot allow your personal opinions cloud you judgement,' Wynne argued imperiously, as she lectured the Warden on his responsibility.

'Is that so? Then perhaps, Wynne, we should reflect on your continued existence?' he responded acidly. 'Perhaps you were not watching when Alistair pulled together that Holy Smite. If she was possessed she would have been incapacitated, but it didn't affect her.'

Kallian had to admit that she had been concerned until she had seen that, worrying that a spirit would see Elissa's lifeless body as the perfect vessel to host, but Alistair and Daylen had confirmed between them that Elissa had no connection to the Fade once the mage recovered from the after effects of being caught in Alistair's Smite. Surprisingly, Daylen had taken Alistair's apology graciously, realising that Alistair had not meant to overpower him in a bid to stop the elf.

Daylen looked around at the group; the sunder in the Veil giving him the ability to make out where each of them where with more clarity than usual. 'As far as any of us are concerned,' he said, 'Elissa is nothing more than a highly talented hunter and tracker until we see otherwise.' He turned on his heel and left the group before they could protest.

Kallian looked over at Wynne. 'You know, Elissa was the only one who never doubted you after you told us about the Spirit' she reminded the elder mage before she got to her feet to follow Daylen.

The Warden sat in a doorway that went further into the darkened ruin. In the flickering fire light, the room they were in had taken on a spooky atmosphere with shadows moving and flying around the walls as it caught the strange contours of the room, catching the carvings in the wall and making them seem alive. Had Kallian been more easily spooked she'd have jumped. She sat down beside Daylen and looked down into the gloom.

'You've been surprisingly quiet on the matter given your relationship to Elissa,' said Daylen.

Kallian smiled tightly. 'I didn't know what to say,' she confessed. 'Magic and spirits are not really something I understand. I'd never even seen a mage until I met Elissa's aunt. I just didn't want her to die and you and Alistair know more than I do, so I decided to trust your judgement.'

Daylen turned to face her. 'That is very brave, we could have been wrong.'

'But you weren't,' she said. 'Thank you, for saving her, I know you don't like her all that much.'

He turned away back towards the darkened ruin. 'She's one of us,' he said. 'Right now, we're all each other have in the world. We have to do what we can for each other even if we don't like each other much.'

'Why don't you like her?'

'I don't dislike her,' he admitted, 'but she's the group's greatest weakness, particularly when it comes to Alistair.'

'She's also his greatest strength,' Kallian pointed out.

'Which makes her a danger,' said Daylen. 'Do you want to even think about what would have happen if she had died today?'

Kallian had to admit that she did not want to think about it. Her loss would have been devastating on the young King of Ferelden and the Maker only knew what path it would have taken him down had he lost his Queen to this; Zathrien's downfall was proof of the terrible damage that hatred and grief could cause. She shivered as she looked out into the darkness beyond. So much was uncertain, they may have won the right to their lives today, but who knew about tomorrow or the day after that.

'This could happen again,' she ventured. 'Elissa could be put in danger again.'

'What are you suggesting?'

She shrugged. 'I don't ever what to see her like that again. I'd sooner see her sent back to Redcliffe.'

Daylen chuckled under his breath. 'Do you really think she would even countenance such a decision? Besides, if we are right, she is still a target for Howe? On the balance, she might remain safer if she stays with us. If we could get her some armour...and she learns to stay out of trouble.'

'We're going to Denerim, are we not? She has a set there in her family vault,' Kallian reminded him.

He remembered Elissa mentioning the vault. 'Yes, she also mentioned other supplies there.' He sighed. 'It will be dangerous for all of us, Kallian. Loghain's supporters will be on the lookout for us.'

'We still have Brother Genitivi to speak to as well.'

Daylen had forgotten about that, and he clicked his tongue impatiently. 'We'll see what becomes of it if Arl Eamon is still alive when we get out of here.'

Kallian nodded her agreement as the door at the other end of the door opened. Alistair and Elissa entered, looking surprisingly peaceful and content considering the ordeal they had just endured. Moving to join their companions, Elissa was engulfed in an eager hug from Leliana, while Zevran rose from his place by the fire to greet them. Kallian got to her feet and walked over to where the four of them were speaking, glad to see Elissa smiling and looking close to whole. She was hopeful that from here on in, things would run far more smoothly in their mission.

_A.N - Well, I think that's the worse of that plot nug out the way for now. Phew. The last few chapters have been hell to write, but it's all worth it if you lot enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who pitched in an opinion over the course of this seemingly odd direction to take the story. _


	23. The Heart of the Forest VIII

_I am so terribly sorry – I've suffered terrible writers block with this and then I decided to finish 'In the Aftermath' but I'm not happy with the ending at all, so that's being fixed at the moment. But I rather hope this has been worth the wait – we're just switching gears again here and heading to the next big part of the story, so this is one of two or three chapters to bridge the gap._

_My thanks to Darkly Tranquil for beta-ing. _

_24th Firstfall, 9:30_

_The Brecilian Forest, Ferelden._

'I thought you would most certainly die,' said the elven healer, Aneirin.

Elissa looked up at the familiar face that had almost certainly saved her life. 'What are you doing here?' she asked, smiling at him.

'I came to see if they would accept my aid, Lanaya is far more tolerant of outsiders than Zathrian ever was,' he explained as he sat on the log beside her. 'It seems your people performed some sort of miracle. I take it the others who were not so well attired were once part of the werewolf pack?'

She looked at her new charges; only a handful of the youngest werewolves had chosen to accompany them. Those that were once Dalish intended to remain with Lanaya's Clan while only three humans were to accompany them further to South Reach. They would set out for the township of South Reach today and Lanaya was certain that with good time, they would reach the seat of Arl Bryland by the afternoon, as the town was barely a few hours away. As they had approached the forest from the west, entering from the Southron Hills, they had walked for three days in a north easterly direction and to find a camp that was just a short hour's walk from the West Road on the northern outskirts of the Forest. All they had to do was follow the river east and it would lead them to the Arl's estate in a few hours later.

'They were,' she confirmed. 'They have been left in my charge by the spirit that guided them. As that spirit saved my life, I am duty-bound to assist them however I can.'

Aneirin nodded his head. 'You may have earned yourself some very strong allies in the men and women who were once werewolves, even if they do not leave the forest.'

Elissa glanced at him. 'Are you to remain in the forest?'

'I shall,' he said. 'Strange as it may seem to you, it is my home now.'

'Might I ask you to watch over the others? My future is currently uncertain. I might not live beyond the year and I would not want them forsaken,' she explained.

'You intend to remain on this mission despite what it nearly cost you?' Aneirin asked thoughtfully.

'The people of Ferelden need me to fight, side by side with my husband,' she replied. 'I will not sit idle through this Blight when I could do something to help.'

Aneirin smiled. 'I have heard it said that you are the Queen of Ferelden. You neglected to mention that before.'

'Didn't really seem to matter while I was dying.'

The elf chuckled. 'You are a strange one, Elissa. But tell me, I could not help but notice one among your group last night, one of the mages,' he said. 'The older woman, she looks familiar.'

'You mean Wynne?' she asked. 'She is our healer and a dear friend.'

Although she said 'dear friend' in good faith, she knew the mage was dubious of the means used to ensure Elissa's survival. She thought Alistair had made a terribly reckless decision and so far as Wynne was concerned, it was still indeterminate as to whether Elissa had gained any unusual ability as a result. Elissa did not feel any different nor had she noticed any additional skill that one might attribute to coming into contact with a great spirit of nature. How her life with Alistair could continue if she had experienced a great magical change, Elissa did not know. Maker be praised that she did not have to contemplate leaving the man who had stolen her heart so thoroughly.

'A spirit healer from the Circle?' Aneirin enquired further.

'Indeed,' she said. 'Is she someone you remember from your time in the Circle?'

'I believe I described her as harsh, unkind and terribly impatient,' said Aneirin.

Elissa smirked, they weren't the words she would use to describe Wynne, she was far kinder, but her judgement could be harsh as she had discovered over the past few days. 'Old age must have mellowed her,' replied Elissa drawing a laugh from Aneirin. 'Will you stay to speak with her?'

He shook his head. 'She has probably long forgotten me and I have no mind for a lecture if you assessment of her mellowing doesn't ring quite true.'

She nodded before the elf moved away, returning back to the makeshift infirmary where the injured elves were still recovering now they were free of the horrific curse that was raging in their veins when they had first arrived. Mere moments after Aneirin disappeared Alistair emerged from their tent looking considerably better rested than he had done at any point during their trials in the forest. Although the tent only provided limited privacy, they had finally been able to enjoy some time together to reconnect and heal the emotional and physical wounds they had suffered. She could tell by his touch that he was still in a state of disbelief that she was still alive and still his; his kisses were heated but uncertain, his desire for her warring with his concern for lingering injuries. She knew that had they had a soft bed as opposed to the hard ground, they would not have gotten as much rest as they needed last night. She smirked at the thought and Alistair glanced at her curiously.

'What?'

She shrugged. 'Not much,' she said, standing up and walking over to him.

He immediately took the opportunity to take her in his arms; he'd barely been able to stop touching her since her recovery. She had already vowed never to put herself in such danger again, not without him by her side anyway. Her pride really wasn't worth it, and she knew all he wanted was to protect her – a vow he took very seriously. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her once again; she closed her eyes, letting herself be lost to the dizzying sensation that he alone could invoke in her blood.

They readied themselves to leave swiftly, pulling down their tents and donning their armour for the journey ahead. Lanaya had presented Elissa with a suit of armour from the clan's craftsmen, made of light Dalish leather; fully reinforced, it offer more protection than the hunting leathers that had been destroyed in battle. It was comfortable as well and Elissa felt a surge of confidence that it would at least serve well enough until she reached Denerim when she could retrieve her Silverite armour.

She was not the only one in the group to be wearing new armour. After searching the ruins they had found the werewolves residing in, they had uncovered a large set of untouched armour that was far too big for any of the party to wear. Sten had been dubious of the set at first, as it was of Tevinter Origin, but Alistair and Daylen had established that it was safe enough to use and Sten wouldn't find himself under the influence of ancient blood magic. He seemed to trust their judgement and had willingly donned it in favour of the scavenged pieces he had been wearing since Leliana had facilitated his escape from Lothering. Alistair had decided to take up using his brother's shield after his own had been damaged beyond repair. Despite his trepidation, he didn't really have much choice in the matter, besides, for better or worse, it was his now.

Once ready to leave, Lanaya joined them, gathering her clan around them.

'You have done us all a great service. I shall say it officially; we shall honour our agreement with the Grey Wardens. It will take us some time to gather the Clans but we will await your call and then stand at your side,' Lanaya declared before them all.

Daylen nodded his head in acknowledgement of the keeper's words. 'Thank you, Lanaya,' he said gravely. 'It has been an honour to meet you; I hope we meet again as allies on the field. But we must depart as we have other allies to find and other enemies to defend ourselves from. We must not tarry.'

'Indeed we shall,' she agreed before she stepped aside to allow the companions to leave.

They walked away from the camp, the elves' farewell muted by their sorrow for their fallen Keeper and slightly distrustful of the explanation of events that lead to their Keeper's demise, but Daylen did not care. They had yet another group of allies to assist them and that would do for now; they had a greater war to fight outside of this place. It was one that would take all the political cunning of the monarchs that were in their midst. For the moment, he let them revel in the happiness that Elissa's survival had brought them, but he doubted it would last once their enemies started closing in on them.

_South Reach, Ferelden._

The township of South Reach was the largest settlement between Denerim and Lothering. Serving as a waypoint for the many travelling merchants that roamed Ferelden plying their wares, the Arling enjoyed considerable prosperity for what was essentially a rural town of no particular note. The first thing they noticed was that there were a large number of guards patrolling the gates to the town. Elissa and Alistair glanced behind them at their rather conspicuous group before exchanging a look; there could be a good many reasons why there were so many men on patrol. The town was likely to be full of unhappy refugees fleeing from Lothering and there had been a fair share of altercations in the village when they had been there before it was over run, so tensions were likely to be high. Equally, they could be on the watch out for a large, eclectic group comprised of elves, humans and a Qunari warrior who had been liberated from a death sentence in barbaric cage.

'I don't like this,' said Kallian, eyeing the guards nervously.

Elissa put a hand on her arm. 'It will be fine,' she said, realising that any chance they had of passing inconspicuously through South Reach had just been lost. They had hoped to arrive quietly, confirming the lay of the land so far as Arl Bryland was concerned and if he was to be against them, then to leave as quietly as they had arrived.

'We had best hope this is going to be a _nice_ welcoming committee,' Alistair mused as the guard captain barked out some orders and one man ran off into the town. 'Court faces, my dear.'

'What is going on?' asked one of the former werewolves, a young woman by the name of Sarah.

'There are a number of us in this group who are wanted for murder,' said Daylen drily.

Kallian bristled then looked at Elissa. 'Do you think Arl Bryland knows what I did?' she asked.

'I think the whole country knows what you did,' Elissa observed pointedly.

Alistair smiled reassuringly at the young elf. 'Nothing is going to happen to you while you are with us,' he said, 'or anyone else for that matter.'

'Unless something happens to you,' said Daylen wryly. 'So, is Arl Bryland going to be friend or foe, Elissa?'

'I rather hope friend,' she said, watching the captain of the guard Elissa observed towards them, thankfully without his sword drawn. 'But Loghain is the Arl's ruling Teryn despite his personal friendship with my father.'

She and Alistair turned to watch the Captain who dropped to one knee when he reached them. 'Your Majesties,' he said, bowing his head. 'Thank the Maker you have arrived unharmed. I am Robyn, Captain of the Guard here in South Reach. It is an honour to welcome you to our town.'

'You were expecting us?' asked Alistair, looking at the guard who was still on his knee. He glanced at Elissa, who gave him a pointed look. 'You may rise, Captain,' he said his tone a little unsure provoking a small smirk from his Queen.

'Aye, Your Majesty,' said Robyn as he got to his feet. 'The Arl has had us on watch for you since the beginning of Firstfall. We have orders to escort you to the Castle. I have just sent a message to the Arl to inform him of your arrival.'

Alistair glanced at his wife who nodded imperceptibly, before looking back at the Captain. 'Lead the way, Captain Robyn.'

'As you wish, Your Majesty,' he said, saluting then turning to lead the way.

Daylen drew level with Alistair. 'We aren't all going to have to start calling you 'Your Majesty' are we?'

'It's looking as if it is going that way,' he replied grimly.

He really didn't like being called by his title; it sounded wrong to his ears when 'Alistair' was a good enough. It was his name after all. It had taken him several weeks to get used to being called 'Highness' when he had been elevated to the position his royal birth right afforded him from the lowly ranks of the Templars. He'd been chewing over the title of 'Majesty' for weeks now, and even when Elissa used it in a semi-teasing tone, it just did not feel right. Alistair supposed it was because he had never aspired to the Throne; even now, he didn't want it. He would do the job laid before him and he would do it to the best of his ability, but Maker, what he wouldn't give for a quiet farmstead with Elissa and few beautiful children. He was a simple man, with simple tastes, although he wouldn't quite use those words in front of Morrigan, she'd just say something snide.

Alistair sighed to himself as he felt Elissa's entwine her fingers with his. She was so much better at all this; she had been trained to rule, to become the Teryna of Highever in her own right, and she could speak eloquently and knew all the foibles of a noble's life and the games they played. He felt like he was floundering and yet when he looked at her, and when she smiled at him with reassurance, he could not help but think that everything might be okay. What he would have done if he had lost her, he did not know.

'Worried?' she asked him in a quiet undertone pinpointing his feelings with the same accuracy as her aim with a bow.

He smiled wanly. 'A little,' he replied, 'I don't really know what to say to the Arl.'

'Well, given that he was waiting for us, he might have something tell us,' said Elissa, 'then we go from there.'

'Something good, I hope,' he said earning him a doubtful look. 'Well, look on the bright side, at least his men didn't pounce on us and arrest us all on sight.'

'No doubt that will happen when he realises there are three wanted murderers, an assassin, and an apostate in our midst,' muttered Daylen as they followed the captain to the keep of the castle of South Reach.

-…-

In comparison to the great fortresses of northern Ferelden, Redcliffe, Highever, and Vigil's Keep, South Reach was not a particularly large or impressive castle. It had been built on the edge of the Brecilian Forest to act as a rallying point for the inhabitants of the area against attacks by Dalish Elves and Chasind incursions. The Ash Warriors that had heeded Cailan's call had joined the ranks of men from Denerim had hailed from this area, and it was during an earlier visit to the area that Alistair had his first encounter with the terrifying men and their Marbari Warhounds. Arl Bryland had been a gracious host that day, affording his King and Prince every luxury he could muster before their hard ride to Ostagar. It was here that Alistair had last had a decent night's rest without some type of horror lingering over him.

The castle was nicely decorated, as with every other noble in Ferelden, Arl Bryland was proud of his history and loyalty to the Ferelden throne. Of medium build with auburn hair, Arl Bryland did not look like a particularly threatening man, but his mild mannered appearance belied his skills as warrior, which had been honed in the rebellion fighting at the side of Maric the Saviour. He was one of the thoroughly decent nobles who disliked lies and subterfuge in the court of Ferelden, and had been among the men who had given serious consideration to supporting Bryce Cousland's ascension to the throne. There had been rumours that the Arl sought to curry favour with the northern Teryn, but in truth, Leonas Bryland was a powerful man who had lead his Arling to prosperity through his own merits; he just didn't give voice to every thought that came into his head, unlike many of the other nobles.

He stood as the doors opened; looking over the motley group of people that Daylen and Alistair had collected since leaving Ostagar, his eyes flickering over each of them as if he already knew who each of them were. His gaze lingered momentarily on Kallian, who returned his look pugnaciously, before turning his attention to Elissa. He smiled for the Cousland scion, he had known her since she was a babe in arms, although there was a look of concern as he took in her appearance. The cut from the werewolf's claw was still red against the porcelain skin of her face. Nervously, she touched it then smiled sadly as she stepped closer to Alistair.

'Your Majesty,' said the Arl, bowing to his King. 'I am honoured to have you here and welcome you to my home once more.'

'Thank you, Arl Bryland,' said Alistair. 'No doubt we have much to discuss, but we are weary from our travels. Might I ask an opportunity for refreshment and rest before we turn our minds to more pressing matters.'

'Indeed, I had been informed of your number and guest rooms have been prepared. I shall have Robert see you to your rooms and organise anything you need,' said the Arl, 'and we shall convene for dinner.'

-…-

Seneschal Robert bowed to his monarchs before backing out the room and leaving Alistair and Elissa alone. They glanced at each other, glad for the warm accommodation, promise of food, and warm baths. Neither had released how tired they were until they were faced with the giant four poster bed that dominated the Royal guest rooms. A straw mattress would have been good enough for them after several weeks of uncomfortable bedrolls on the hard, cold ground. The bed looked luxurious and they both wanted to climb under the covers and sleep until they felt well rested, but dinner was a few short hours away and if Arl Bryland's face was anything to go by, the business of the country was not going to shape up to being an enjoyable conversation, but then Alistair had never thought it would be.

'What do you think the worse news could be?' he asked his wife.

She shrugged, as out of sorts with this as he was. Although she had a greater knowledge of the Kingdom and its politics, the pair of them had spent most of the last month disconnected with the troubles of their newly inherited realm. 'Depends on how the rest of the Bannorn feels about Loghain's actions, and even Howe's,' she said, crossing her arms over her chest. 'At least we know you have allies, Alistair.'

He ran his hand through his hair and turned away. It didn't feel like enough; he didn't have nearly enough political prowess to sort through the mire that was brewing. However, he had to try; having seen up close and personal what this Blight could do to Ferelden had hardened his determination to succeed as King. He had to act for his people if they were to stand any chance, and acting did not mean standing around in Denerim like Loghain had suggested Cailan did.

'Right, so where do we start?' Alistair asked her, turning back to face her. 'We need a plan and decide what we are going to do.'

'We can't plan anything until we know what we're dealing with,' said Elissa, moving closer to him. 'I think we can trust Bryland as an ally. He's clearly been waiting for us and seemed relieved. So where we start is a hot bath and some food and praying to the Maker that we do not fall asleep whilst we listen to the business of the realm.'

Alistair chuckled, his hands going to Elissa's arms. She looked up and smiled at him but there was a touch of sadness in her eyes. 'Are you okay?' he asked her, finally giving himself a moment to let her see just how concerned he was about her.

'I'm just…' she said, shrugging. 'Everything is a lot to take in at the moment. I am sure I will be fine with some rest.'

Alistair enveloped her in his arms, pulling her to his chest where she cuddled into him, unconcerned that he was still clad in his armour, having grown accustomed to it. 'I'll see to it that we get a few days rest,' said Alistair quietly. 'We all need to regroup and decide what we're doing next. There is still the matter of Arl Eamon, and I think we need to at least see if he can be helped.'

Elissa nodded her head; Eamon was currently the most powerful voice they could muster, his influence had been exceeded only by her father and Loghain in the eyes of the Ferelden court. However, she knew the most powerful thing they could be doing was making Ferelden see the Blight and and convince them to fight it with the Wardens. She knew Alistair knew it as well, but she could feel his trepidation. She closed her eyes, hoping that it wouldn't be anything more than a bit of unrest in the Bannorn, but this was Ferelden and when the Bannorn was discontent, everyone knew about it.

-…-

'They're all staring at me,' said Kallian, gazing around at the servants before looking at Leliana as they walked through the corridors of South Reach's Castle.

'It is because you are an elf, who has been given a position of honour by the Arl due to our travelling companions,' said Zevran from behind her. 'It is quiet easy to forget that we travel with a King and Queen, although, the benefits when they present themselves are more than satisfactory.' His eyes followed a voluptuous young maid who threw Zevran a flirty smile. 'It is about time that someone other than His Majesty got to appreciate the female form, do you not think?'

Leliana raised her eyebrows. 'Don't you bring shame on our friends,' she said sternly. 'Alistair and Elissa have been nothing but good to all of us.'

'I shall act with discretion, dear Leliana,' said Zevran with a flourishing bow before he went on his way.

Leliana shook her head. 'And so it will remain a discretion until the maid blooms with a babe in her belly,' she said.

'He is something, isn't he?' mused Kallian, momentarily distracted from her discomfort as she watch the elf walk away from them.

'He is a Crow,' she said, 'it is my understanding that many of them, human and elf, behave in the same manner. They seek only to please themselves, finding enjoyment in the kill just as much as they enjoy the finer things in life.'

Kallian quirked her eyebrow at Leliana. 'You will have to tell me one day how it is you know so much.'

'I keep telling you I haven't spent all of my life in the Chantry,' Leliana replied. 'My previous life brought me into contact with many skill sets that are of use. Much like you have not spent your whole life as a maid to Elissa and you have skills that you have found useful over the past few months, do you not?'

Kallian sighed. 'But I'm not that much of a mystery,' she said, 'grew up in Denerim's Alienage, started working for Elissa, murdered my way through Arl Urien's men to get to his son after he kidnapped my cousin and murdered my fiancé, before going on the run with the King and Queen of Ferelden.'

'Seduce me with the fancy details of your life all you like, I will not be divulging my life's tale,' chuckled Leliana. 'That part of my life is over. I am just a sister of the Chantry now, following the word of my Maker.'

'Every time you say that, it sounds less and less convincing,' smirked Kallian. 'You enjoy this life. I see it in your eyes in the heat of battle. It excites you, just as it excites me.'

Leliana suddenly looked shaken. 'I don't know what you mean, Kallian.'

'Of course you don't, Sister Leliana,' said Kallian. 'Shall we go down for dinner as we have been commanded by our King and Queen?'

Sister Leliana shook her head at audacious elf as they continued down to the Main Hall.

-…-

'If this is what rubbing shoulders with the nobility is like,' said Daylen, as he fiddled with the collar of the uncomfortable looking robes he had been given while his were being cleaned and mended, 'maybe it's best I ended up in the Circle instead of being raised in Kirkwall as a noble man.'

His expression was sardonic as he spoke to Kallian. She smiled sympathetically. 'Believe me; it's usually far worse than this.'

'I survive this, I'm disappearing into obscurity so that I may never have to show my face at anything like this again,' muttered Daylen. 'Do you think I can say at the Inn next time, instead of letting them drag me to these things?'

'You're the Warden who gives their cause weight,' she said. 'You are very convincing when you need to be. The nobles need the kick from you as much as they need it from them.'

She glanced over to where Elissa and Alistair were speaking with Arl Bryland. They had arrived to dinner to a lot of fanfare and they had all been expected to act accordingly. Kallian did not tell those present who were unused to being in the company of Kings and Queens that this was considered a casual affair. Compared to Arl Bryland, who was wearing a thick silk shirt and frock coat with thick woollen breaches, Elissa and Alistair looked underdressed in the clothes they had been offered, but they held the attention of the Arl nonetheless as they discussed the events that had transpired during the disaster at Ostagar and their excursion into the forest. From their grave expressions and occasional glances to each other, the news was not good and there was talk of private drinks after that between the Arl and the Monarchs to discuss other matters. That did not bode well.

'What did the Arl say on the matter of the Blight?' Kallian asked the Warden.

'That he will rally as much support as he can, but he is concerned about seeing to the refugees coming into South Reach heading for Denerim and he needs to deal with as many of those as he can,' said Daylen, his expression darkened a little. 'Don't think I don't know what you are doing Kallian. The answer is still no, even if I knew how, I'd still say no.'

'I'm not…' she protested, floundering a little before gathering her thoughts together. 'You made your decision very clear. I will not trouble you further with it, Daylen.'

He wanted to say something, to tell her of the horrific ritual that was required to create a Grey Warden, but he found his tongue glued itself to the top of his mouth. As much as he hated the order and its secretive ways, even he had to admit the necessity of such secrets. 'Kallian,' he said quietly. 'There are better ways of finding your way in the world. You don't have to sacrifice your life to the Grey Wardens because of what you did.'

She eyed him with curiosity, glad he could not see her expression. It was such an odd thing to say 'sacrifice your life' and she wondered at his meaning. Perhaps he was just trying to scare her but she could feel a pull towards becoming a Grey Warden that tugged insistently at the back of her mind. Becoming a Warden would offer a path to redemption if she helped save Ferelden and she would have the opportunity to use her battle skills; it would be better than having to vanish from existence when this was over. At least there would be an on-going purpose after the Blight in continuing the war against the monstrous darkspawn. Daylen might be averse to helping her, but perhaps there would be someone out there who would assist her. He might be the only Warden in Ferelden, he was not the only Warden in Thedas and perhaps others would come to help them end this Blight before it was too late.

'Kallian?' Daylen said, snapping her out of her thoughts. 'Promise me you will never seek out the Wardens to become one?'

Again grateful he could not see her, Kallian smiled as the lie fell easily from her lips. If he sensed her lie, he did not say and she turned away from him before he tried to elicit any further promises from her that she intended to break.

-…-

They shouldn't have been a surprise by either piece of news, yet it hit her in the gut like a swift kick to the solar plexus and Elissa had excused herself from the company of the Arl and Alistair to just get some air. She made it back to their rooms and pushed her way out onto the balcony, struggling to breathe. Thomas Howe she could deal with when it came to his unwanted advances, he was nothing more than a disgusting little man with little talent when it came to the sword but the thought of him near her, wedded to her, forcing himself on her, sent a cold shiver through her. She trembled, feeling far more vulnerable than she ought to, particularly when she had seen seen the capabilities of her companions first hand, but still… Elissa knew the sort of man Thomas Howe was, and knew that he had the potential to make his father look like a kindly old man. She shuddered before settling her hands about the wall of the balcony, her fingers had turned blue already and she exhaled a breathe that caught the cold air and rose, twisting in strange shapes before her face. She willed herself to believe that all would be well, how could it not when she had her Golden King to protect her.

Unless he would be swayed by Anora's request…

She chuckled, of course he would not be, she had seen the look of sheer horror on his face when he had read through the letter Anora had sent out to the Bannorn requesting that Alistair return to Denerim and they marry to unite the Kingdom. He had screwed the letter up and then unceremoniously threw it into the fire once she had read it. Elissa didn't really know what to make of it, particularly as the Dowager Queen was supposed to be in mourning for her husband; still, it solidified her suspicious about Anora and with it had come the news of another confirmed ally in Bann Sighard. He held a strong position and he was a good man. She understood why he had initially seen Loghain as an ally, before now, he had been a staunch supporter of Maric and then Cailan; even she was still struggling to accept that Loghain, the hero of the Rebellion, had turned his back on Cailan and by extension Ferelden, as his actions had led to the massacre of several families and the army of the Kingdom all in the name of protecting the realm. Even Elissa, young and inexperienced as she was knew it was no way to protect anything.

From inside the door clicked shut and she glanced over her shoulder to see Alistair walk across the room. His eyes fixed on her as he came closer. When he reached the door to the balcony, he leant against the jamb. 'I don't know what you're more upset about,' he said, 'Thomas Howe or Anora?'

She shrugged; she didn't really know what she was upset about either now she that had calmed a little. They were nothing but two opportunistic snakes attempting to exploit what they could out of two people they deemed to be inexperienced and easily manipulated. They were neither. Elissa rubbed her temples as she shook her head. 'Sorry, I just…' she faltered, her voice trailing off so she turned and gazed out into the middle distance. 'I didn't expect Howe to come after me in such a forceful manner. I thought he'd just send his men not...this.'

Alistair swallowed, watching her as she continued to gaze out into the darkness. 'He isn't coming anywhere near you, my love,' he said quietly.

'I know,' she sighed. She pushed away from the low wall and turned to face her husband. 'But he was here, Alistair, he knew where to start looking for me. How did he know?'

'Bryland believes that Howe has spies everywhere Elissa,' Alistair replied, 'didn't you say that he sent a man to Redcliffe? And Maker only knows who recognised you when you first arrived in Lothering, or what the people who left Redcliffe said when they were on the road.' He walked towards her and placed his hands on her slender shoulders. 'You are lucky that you have friends willing to protect you. Arl Bryland has sent word to Bann Teagan and Bann Sighard to warn them of Howe's agenda and you still have an ally in Delilah Howe as well.'

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

'The Arl told me that Lady Howe wrote to him to inform him what her father had done and his plans for you,' he explained. 'As far as Arl Bryland is aware, Lady Howe planned to speak with Alfstanna to help you escape should Thomas catch up with and take you to Amaranthine.' He took her hands and led her back into their room and shut the door to keep out the cold.

'It isn't just that,' she said, 'what about Anora?'

He looked at her then sudden comprehension dawned on his face and he couldn't help but laugh. 'You can't seriously think I'd even consider it for one moment….?' he asked her, incredulity colouring his voice. 'Anora?'

'I…' she shrugged again feeling more at sea than ever. 'I'm not thinking straight.' She looked at him earnestly. 'Sorry.'

'I might forgive you if it were not such a ridiculous thought,' he said. 'I am not going to put you aside for the woman whose father left my brother to die. Not to mention, the Chantry will not annul our marriage particularly as we have been wed for nearly a year and I have put you with child once before.'

'Shea'll be relying on me to get killed,' pointed out Elissa.

Alistair frowned, the thought of her dying still too close to the surface after their adventures in the forest. 'Then I would mourn for you and if needs be, marry anyone other than Anora. Even the Empress of Orlais seems like an attractive proposition in comparison.'

Elissa raised her eyebrow at her husband giving him a pointed look before she shook her head smiling fondly at her beloved. 'You are not marrying the Empress of Orlais.'

Alistair smiled, grateful for a spark of life in Elissa's eyes now. 'No, I'm not. because I'm married to you, and very happily so, I might add.' He took her hand leading her back towards the huge bed. 'You need to rest, properly.'

Ten minutes later, in a soft linen night dress with her hair braid Elissa climbed into the luxurious bed that had been beckoning to her since their arrival several hours ago. The covers were thick and the pillows were plump, and scented with lavender intended to aid sleep. As she snuggled into the pillow, Elissa knew that she did not need any help in getting off to sleep, particularly when Alistair climbed into the bed beside her and pulled her to his chest, barely hearing him mummer in her ear before she fell asleep with the knowledge that for the first time in weeks they were safe for the moment.


	24. The City of Kings I

_Part V:The City of Kings_

_28th Firstfall, __9:30__  
__South Reach, Ferelden.__  
_  
The morning dawned cold, crisp and icy, and as Elissa readied herself for the journey to Denerim. She caught herself wishing she could remain in the safe, warm cocoon she had awoken in for the past four days. The comfort of a proper bed with covers and pillows had chased away the resurgent fears she had felt when she had learnt of Thomas Howe's pursuit. She had spent her last night of safety in the arms of her beloved, slowly making love to chase their fears away until only they existed in a state of perfect, sated bliss. There was no room for titles, threats, and all the other burdens that made their life a daily fight for survival. Elissa had felt true happiness as her lover brought her to her peak and simultaneously joined her leaving them both with a sense of contentment and unity. Later as she had dozed in his arms, warm, safe and complete, she had hoped that they would soon be blessed with what Howe had taken from them once before – another child. It seemed like a foolish thing to want in the middle of this awful battlefield but no one knew how long the Blight would last and if it were to last for years as previous Blights had done**,** then they would still need heirs to continue their line and lead their people once they were gone.

In truth, she did not want to face the outside world knowing what might be coming for her because, despite knowing her companions were a formidable force, she also knew what her enemies were capable off should they put together a plan. Zevran was proof of the lengths their enemies in the Denerim would go to in a bid to rid themselves of the surviving Grey Warden. One did not enter a pact with the Crows lightly because it could quiet easily end with your head on a plate as opposed to your enemy. While Elissa had been lucky in persuading Zevran to join their cause, she doubted her charm would work for a second time on a would-be assassin.

As she did up the ties on the fur line cloak that Bryland had gifted to her, the man in question came to stand beside her on the steps to his estate. 'You'll have to be on your guard,' he said quietly. 'You are more valuable to your enemies than His Majesty.'

Elissa glanced at the Arl, a man who had been a surrogate uncle to her and her brother in times past. He looked old, worn by the worries of the impossible war that was brewing around him, conscious of the side he had chosen and the immense consequences that choice could have for all that he held dear. 'I will act with caution,' she said quietly.

Bryland put his hand on her arm. 'You must. Your parents gave their lives so that you might live, Elissa, and serve justice. You cannot let your enemies wrong foot you,' he said in a low, hushed voice.

'I will not,' she said. 'I know what's coming for me, but they don't know what's coming for them.' She looked at the group that where readying themselves to leave. 'They are more formidable than they look.'

'I hope so,' replied Bryland dubiously, having not seen the group in any sort of action as they had forgone their sparring sessions in favour of the much needed rest before the continued on. The Arl cleared his throat. 'I want you to know that I am deeply sorry for your loss, Elissa. Your parents were the finest of us all.'

She nodded, numbness creeping in as she realised how much she tried not to think about her parents, about Oren and Oriana. She had turned much of her focus on Alistair, channelling her thoughts to the last remaining person in her life that represented the family that she had three months ago. He was all she had left and she clung to it, knowing full well they could be torn apart.

'Thank you,' she said quietly. 'They will be remembered and justice will be served.'

'They would be very proud to see you today,' Bryland said as Alistair walked over to join them. Bryland bowed to the King. 'Your Majesty, I have sent word to Bann Sighard, I suggest you pay a visit to his demesne for information on what is going on in the city before you attempt to enter it.'

'It won't be wise all of us going to the city anyhow, we'll need someone who can house us for a time,' said Alistair looking back that the group. 'We somewhat stand out.'

'Indeed,' Bryland agreed. 'Your Majesty, if I might have a word before you depart?'

Alistair nodded and Elissa left their company without a word, walking over to join Leliana in distributing some arrows between them. With his wife preoccupied, Alistair looked at the Arl. Bryland clasped his hands behind his back.

'You must protect her, Your Majesty. She is your most valuable asset.' he said seriously, 'Your enemies will want her dead by any means possible.'

This he already knew, which was why she was on the road with them and not in Redcliffe, safe from the dangers of this hazardous mission. 'She will come to no harm,' said Alistair.

'No further harm,' corrected Bryland. 'I know she was injured in the Forest, your companions have spoken of it.'

Alistair looked to the floor and scuffed his foot on the floor, a decidedly unkingly gesture, then he looked up. 'She was attacked by the werewolves that inhabited the Forest when she was tracking them,' he said. 'If I could have stopped it**,** I would have.'

Bryland waved him off. 'Your Majesty, please, I understand how these things can happen in war and I bear you no ill will on the matter. However, I mean to warn you of the other dangers you face and to remind you that Anora will have leverage over her should it come to it.' His gaze fell on Kallian. 'She knows Elissa facilitated the elf's escape from Fort Drakon and that her family has a long association with protecting apostate mages. Anora will not hesitate to use that to get her out of the picture.'

The young King frowned and shook his head. 'She had no proof to back up those allegations, Arl Bryland.'

'A man can be bribed to provide such stories, Alistair,' said Bryland sadly. 'I'd say your best bet is putting Elissa with child; providing an heir to the throne would go a long way securing the allegiance of the Bannorn. But even that may not be enough to deter the Mac Tirs, given that Anora is already pressing for marriage before her husband's body was even cold. All I ask is that you keep Elissa safe. She is like a niece to me, and to see her as the last of her line pains me greatly, much as it does to see you as the last of yours.'

'We both need to tread carefully,' said Alistair, looking at his redheaded wife as she strapped her quiver to her back. 'I swear to you, in the absence of her father, that I will protect her as much as she lets me.'

Bryland chuckled. 'Seems fair enough to me,' he said. 'She's a headstrong woman, but listen to her, she knows the lay of the land and her knowledge of the Bannorn will be invaluable to you.'

'I know. Thank you, Arl Bryland,' said Alistair.

'It is my pleasure, Your Majesty,' he said, bowing to the King. 'May the Maker shine his light on your path.'

'And on yours,' Alistair replied before taking his leave of the Arl.

Due to the large amount of refugees on the road and the need to move quickly, Elissa plotted a course to follow right along the river that would eventually lead to the Drakon to the demesne of Dragon's Peak. While Elissa regretted leaving the largely unarmed people of Ferelden to their own wits, she knew that it was unlikely they would encounter Darkspawn this far east. But she had to harden herself to the fact they could not save every single person and had to work on the greater good that would come if they defeated the Blight as a whole.

The river path was eerie in the dead of winter, having become overgrown from the lack of use. In the summer, the townsfolk of South Reach and surrounding villages fished here, which would usually leave a clear path, but now they were forced to trudge through boggy mud in attire completely unsuited to the task. Elissa's feet were uncomfortably cold in the Dalish made boots she wore as they were not fur lined in the manner of the Ferelden style boots she was used to. She was not alone in her suffering; Zevran, who was used to warmer climes of Antiva, was feeling the bitter cold of a traditional Ferelden winter more than anyone else**,** although even he expressed surprise at Sten's apparent resilience to the freezing weather.

'Are you certain this is the quickest path?' Daylen asked at some point past noon as the path seemed to turn back on itself, taking them back into the forest.

'It's this or refugees and bandits,' said Elissa grimly, preparing to hack her way through an overgrown part of the path. 'Moving with the refugees could be dangerous due to the large bounty on our head. The prospect of so much coin might prove an irresistible temptation, and we might find ourselves having to fight the very people we are trying to protect.'

Daylen grumbled under his breath but knew she was right; there had been a small fracas over the matter when some of the townsfolk had recognised him from the inept pictures that had arrived from Denerim – an impressive feat**,** as each member of the group who cared to comment said it looked nothing like him. Luckily no one had come to harm in that instance, but it was only a matter of time before a desperate, starving refugee died at the hands of their group when they were forced to defend themselves**,** so they had decided to travel off the beaten track with Elissa once again leading them through the eaves of the Brecilian Forest as they continued east along the river.

She used her sword to carve through overgrown brambles, the others following suit. The progress was slow, the vines were thick and too twisted to be on a path that was well used for over half a year. Elissa paused, concerned for a moment when she caught a hiss on the air; the sound of an arrow cutting through the air followed by a cry of 'get her, lads.'

Elissa dropped back allowing Sten and Alistair to plough through the last of the branches with Kallian hot on their heels, revealing an ambush comprised several men**,** including two Qunari mercenaries who were leading the charge.

Sten focussed his attention on those who could be considered his brethren. 'Tal-Vashoth,' he muttered darkly before charging towards them with his giant double handed blade raised and ready to strike.

It wasn't so skilful an ambush as Zevran's had been. The Crow had admitted to tracking Daylen for days before he made his plans and attacked them. Whoever this man was, and Elissa doubted he was working for Howe because he had sent his son, he had not done a particularly good job of taking them by surprise. If Elissa had been organising an ambush, she'd flank her enemies and take them from behind, but these men had not done that and their leader had helpfully placed himself on an exposed outcrop just in Leliana's line of fire…

Elissa caught the attention of her fellow archer and inclined her head in the direction of the leader. The Chantry Sister smiled and took aim, while Elissa attention was diverted by rustling in the undergrowth beside her. She turned to peer between the branches, turning to take aim at the next sign of movement. A wolf jumped out, landing at her feet and growling at her as he advanced. She pulled the string back, muttering an old incantation that had just popped into her head; it didn't make much sense, and the words were not of the King's Tongue but it seemed like the right thing to be saying it at that point. The wolf dropped back, gnashing its teeth as Elissa lowered her bow. 'Go,' she whispered and the animal backed into the undergrowth as if it had listened to her.

'What is it?' Leliana asked when the wolf had vanished.

Elissa glanced up. 'Nothing,' she said, quickly raising her bow to take aim for an archer who had so far avoided injury.

'You do not intend to take him with us once we have questioned him do you?' Zevran enquired of Elissa as they climbed up to the outcrop where the leader of the ambush was incapacitated by an arrow through his knee. 'He is quiet inept.'

'Inept as opposed to the other person who organised ambush for us?' enquired Alistair with a smirk.

'I confess to being overwhelmed by a marvellous bosom which distracted me,' answer Zevran, his gaze sliding to Elissa.

Her cheeks coloured a little while Alistair shook his head, unperturbed by Zevran's flirtatious remarks. The others had gathered around the rugged leader of the ambush, who was clutching his knee close to where Leliana had put an arrow through it. He looked around at the group, his expression wary and fearful.

'Bloody hell,' he said shaking his head, 'it was supposed to be an easy target. Kill the little red head and don't worry about the rest, she said.'

'Who else wants Elissa dead?' asked Daylen, turning his head in the direction of the woman in question.

Elissa crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the ambush leader. She and Alistair had not spoken to the others of Anora's plans and intended to deal with it between them, but it seemed the Dowager Queen had no intention of making it easy for them.

'Not her,' he said, then turning to look at Leliana, 'the Orlesian red head, the one in the Chantry gear.'

Eyebrows raised and glances were exchanged between members of the group before Kallian chuckled. 'Leliana has done something worthy of assassination?' asked the elf, looking at Chantry Sister. 'I didn't think leaving the Chantry was so dangerous.'

'You'd be surprised,' deadpanned Alistair, his surprised gaze still on Leliana.

Leliana was frowning, her arms wrapped over her chest as she looked over the man. 'Who sent you? Was she also Orlesian?'

'Yes, a woman in Denerim,' he replied. 'She didn't give me her name, just the promise of plenty of coin for an easy job.'

'Brown hair? Dark eyes?' enquired Leliana. 'Her voice almost purrs when she speaks?' The man's eyes glassed over and Leliana nodded her head knowledgeably. 'She is quiet captivating, is she not? You know she would have killed you rather than pay you?'

Leliana turned her back on the man and her friends, conscious of the fact that every set of eyes, even Daylen's unseeing ones where on her back. Maker, had she not proven that she posed no threat to her anymore, that her life was one in service to the Maker? Except of late, but even then, that was because the Maker had shown her the way.

'We are going to Denerim, yes?' asked Leliana, turning back to face the group knowing that before she retired to bed her whole sordid secret would be lain before not just those she counted as friends, but the King and Queen of Ferelden. Oh Maker, she prayed they would be merciful when they found out. She was acutely aware of how most people in Ferelden felt about Orlesians, particularly their spies. Already she could feel the rope tightening.

'We are,' Daylen answered.

'Then I will accompany you there and see to my business,' she said, before turning back to the leader of the ambush. 'Your men are dead, I would suggest getting as far away from here as possible. I don't want to see you again.'

'But my leg,' he protested, gesturing to the arrow embedded in his knee.

Wynne moved forward. 'Here, allow me,' she said, bending to pull the arrow from his leg before casting a healing spell that would get him on his way.

They watched him leave, hobbling into the undergrowth before all the attention when back to Leliana, where she stood looking unusually stern, anger snapping in her eyes as she watched the place where the man had vanished.

'Care to explain what it is you expect us to get involved with?' asked Daylen when enough time had passed for the man to be out of earshot.

'I don't expect you to get involved in anything,' said Leliana. 'Once she is dealt with, I shall be on my way.'

'No decisions have to be made now,' said the Warden. 'We are still a few days from Denerim, are we not?' he inclined his head towards Elissa who confirmed it would be a few days before they reached the capital. 'But it might help if you don't hold anything back.'

Kallian knew that look, the set to the jaw and the hostility flaring in the green depths that were usually friendly and welcoming. Having been on the end of that look, Kallian knew someone, most likely Leliana**,** would be in for a hard time once Elissa had worked up enough fury, which was why Kallian thought it best to divert some of that Cousland steam before she exploded. It seemed like another time when Elissa had been the one to be suspicious of Leliana and her skills while Kallian was more than happy to laugh it all off as Elissa being over paranoid. Of course, Elissa had every right to think as she did after all she had been though in Highever**,** but as time had gone on Elissa's suspicious waned while Kallian had found hole after hole to pick at in a bid to discover just who Leliana was before she became a Sister. It was a bit of a surprise to discover that she had done something worthy of being assassinated.

'Who do you think she is?' Kallian finally asked Elissa, earning herself a dark scowl from the clearly angry Queen of Ferelden, who even Alistair was staying away from.

'I don't know who she is, but I'll take a guess as to what she is,' Elissa replied, her eyes focusing on the path ahead. 'She's a bloody Bard from Orlais.'

'And that would be bad?' asked Kallian, a little at a loss as to why it was such a troubling turn of events. She had seen Bards in the taverns plying their trade**,** performing songs and poems with varying degrees of brilliance**,** usually dependent on the amount of alcohol consumed.

'If they are from Orlais, yes,' said Elissa shortly.

But Kallian was still at a loss, even with the pointed looks. 'Their accent isn't that bad to listen to, I mean sure it gets annoying after a while but Leliana has a lovely voice when she sings…' she quailed under the stormy look Elissa was now giving her. 'Okay, I give up, what is so fundamentally important about Orlesian Bards that I am failing to grasp?'

Elissa's look softened as she realised Kallian didn't know. 'They're spies, Kallian,' she said softly. 'It's all part of this big elaborate game that the Orlesians like to play. Mostly it's harmless, a rumour here, a scandal there, but sometimes it escalates into murder and real spying on other countries.' Elissa threw Leliana a dark look. 'She's been with us, learning about us and our weak points, seeing Ferelden fall to pieces, learning who our allies are and who Anora's are.'

'You know, I've heard of Orlesian Bards,' Alistair put in almost conversationally as he caught up with the two women, undoubtedly seeing Kallian break the ice that had been forming over Elissa.

'Oh great,' said Kallian. 'You know when you've had a sheltered life when he knows something you don't.'

Elissa smirked. 'Don't be so mean.'

'No, she's right,' said Alistair, grinning at Kallian before switching his attention to his wife, turning more serious. 'Come on, Liss, it can't be as bad as all that can it? At least she hasn't tried to kill us in a failed ambush.'

'Again I refer you to your wife's magnificent bosoms and what a fine distraction they are,' replied the assassin. 'No man or woman would stand a chance.'

'It isn't funny,' Elissa insisted, looking around at the companions that where taking this matter less than seriously and then she caught Leliana's gaze.

She looked so sad, guilt ridden by her betrayal and Elissa turned away. She knew about Bards, had been warned about them and the Game when she had been learning the skills she would one day need to follow in her father's footsteps as the ruler of the most prosperous lands in Ferelden. His good relations with the Orlesians had taught him what he needed to know about their Game and he had passed that knowledge onto Elissa. How to convey how bad this could be to Kallian, who had grown up in the sheltered world of the Alienage, and to Alistair, who's own upbringing in the Chantry had clearly given him some idea of what they could be facing, but he wasn't taking it seriously. Of course, that was at least partially her fault for convincing him that bringing Zevran along would be a really good idea. Yet Leliana had brought no harm to them and in fact, it had been her words of comfort in the Chantry at Redcliffe that had given her an extra bit of resolve when all had seemed lost.

Elissa marched on, Cassius at her heels, just slightly ahead of the group**, **occasionally catching tidbits of Kallian and Alistair's conversation as they debated whether Leliana was really here to bring them harm or if she was a reformed character. Elissa decided she would leave her judgement for later, reminding herself that she was the Queen and a good Queen listened before she passed judgement; after all she had saved Kallian, Zevran and agreed to liberate Sten, what was another soul looking for redemption?

_Redcliffe, Ferelden__  
_  
As far as he had always been concerned, Redcliffe was nothing more than a bit of a backwater at the edge of the country, lorded over by a man who his father said only had as much influence as he did on account to being the uncle of King Cailan. As such, Thomas had always thought of Eamon as largely irrelevant and his brother Teagan even more so, as he had never sought to rise beyond the rank of Bann. As such, Thomas hadn't really cared when he had heard that the Arl was dying in his bed; that had been before he needed help from Redcliffe.

He had left South Reach, storming out of Arl Bryland's demesne believing he had nothing to fear. He was certain he would catch up with Elissa Cousland quickly and make her his, keeping her until she gave him the child he needed to give him the power to rule Highever, but instead he had run into something else.

Like everyone else in Ferelden, Thomas had believed the King's decree that a Blight had begun was nothing more than a flight of fancy from the vainglorious King. Thomas, like most sensible people, believed that the threat of the Darkspawn had been ended four centuries ago at the Battle of Aysleigh. Everyone knew that, even the Chantry raised Bastard Prince had voice his doubts before going along with his brother anyway. There were not enough darkspawn to ever start another Blight; a Blight needed thousands upon thousands of the creatures to march over the surface world and those sorts of numbers had not been seen in centuries. Loghain had admitted that there had been plenty on the field at Ostagar, but never enough to truly overrun the army. Had he marched that night, Ferelden would have been victorious against them but at a cost that the Kingdom could not afford.

Yet as Thomas and his small company of men reached Lothering, the numbers of darkspawn they had been confronted by had been vast; stretching as far as the eye could see in a back tide of rancid filth. The air was rank with the stench of their rotting flesh and the putrefying ground beneath their tainted feet. He had only ever seen pictures of the creatures and that had seemed monstrous enough. But in the flesh, bearing down on you with a single minded desire to kill, kill, kill, that was where Thomas had seen true evil.

The ensuing fight had been intense and he had lost most of his men to the horde. Most of those who had not died on the field had died later in writhing agony as they succumbed to blight sickness, the infamous illness that killed everyone it touched brutally and painfully. Thomas had listened in transfixed horror as the men around him cried out in agony as the sickness took hold. He was waiting for his turn, resigned to sharing their fate; he had been badly injured, his knee shattered**,** and although their healer had patched him up, the man had thereafter succumbed to his own sickness and lay himself down to die. In the end, the last two men standing had used their swords to end the lives of the others, silencing their screams in the night.

Thomas felt he had to do something, warn someone of what was coming. Surely they would believe him, as well, now that his father was Teryn of Highever and Arl of Amaranthine and Denerim. The Howes where the second most powerful family in Ferelden now, and even if Redcliffe had some notion of lending the Cousland scion support, he would make them see what a useless endeavour that was if she didn't have her precious Princeling to hide behind. Elissa would have nothing without Alistair Theirin and even she would see the benefits of a marriage to him, even if it were to be for a short while. He could play the mourning husband for a while after she tragically died in child birth.

Bann Teagan stood upon the dais of the great hall looking down on Thomas as if he was nothing more than Marbari shit on the bottom of his shoe. The man, who had always seemed like the ideal frivolous companion to the feckless King Cailan, seemed different. Teagan was better known for his love of hunting over any love of politics and had no chance of having any great power in Ferelden. Thomas had always assumed that Teagan liked it that way.

'To what do we owe this intrusion?' Teagan asked**,** seemingly without regard for Thomas's plight although it was clearly visible from his wounds and limp that he was gravely injured. 'Has you're father not done enough damage here?'

Thomas tried to pull himself up to his full height**,** which was difficult when trying to balance on one leg. 'I come with warning that Lothering is over run.'

Teagan frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. 'You do not think we don't already know?' he asked the northern Lordling. 'Hundreds of men, women and children have already arrived here. You are a little late, do you not think? So I asked again, to what do we owe this intrusion?'

Thomas thought for some reason to give. 'My father has tasked me with finding the Princess Elissa and to put her under my protection.'

At that, Teagan laughed, a deep hollow chuckled that told Thomas precisely what Teagan thought of his story. 'That is not what Arl Bryland tells me,' he said pulling a letter from his doublet and holding it up. 'Indeed he tells a very different tale to what it is you intend to do with our new Queen.'

'Queen?' queried Thomas.

Teagan nodded just the once, in an almost dangerous manner. The guards closed in on Thomas as a signal from Teagan. 'I hereby place you under arrest to face His Majesty King Alistair to answer for the crime of conspiring to kidnap Her Majesty Queen Elissa.'

'You can't do this,' yelled Thomas as hands from Teagan's guard clamped down on him and his remaining men. 'You don't understand what is coming here.'

Teagan smiled grimly as the young man was forcefully pulled away. 'We know what's coming,' he said. 'We've known for some time.'

_The Road to Dragon's Peak, Ferelden__  
_  
'You lied to us,' said Elissa, having followed Leliana out of the camp after she had recounted her story.

Yet another member of their group had a great secret, and of all of them, no one could have believed the life that Leliana had once lived after her benefactor had died in her youth; in their midst was a talented spy who had been involved in a plot so desperate she had nearly paid for that mistake with her life. Her misadventures had led to her fleeing to Ferelden, but her troubles had pursued her, bringing far more dangerous foes onto their trail. The red haired Bard sat down on a rock with a heavy sigh.

'All that talk of you following the Maker's path?' Elissa huffed a breath of annoyed laughter. 'Kallian was right about you, you are crazy.'

'I wasn't lying about that,' said Leliana quietly. 'I believe the Maker put me on a path to find you that day.'

'And no doubt learn all my dark secrets,' Elissa muttered bitterly.

'That is not true,' defended Leliana. 'I had no idea who you were until Bann Teagan arrived in Redcliffe calling you 'Your Highness'. Not once did you give any hint as to who you might be.'

Elissa had to concede that the Bard turned Chantry Sister, or whatever she was, could not have known of Elissa's true identity until Teagan had arrived. She sighed and stomped over to the rocks that Leliana was seated on. She took a seat beside her, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Her tale had been so sincere that even Elissa hadn't seen a word of a lie in Leliana's story, in fact she had seen a great deal of sadness when she spoke of the betrayal against her.

'Did you love her?' Elissa asked, not really meaning to tread on Leliana's feelings, but the words had fallen from her mouth as she had searched for a topic to focus on.

Leliana was silent for a while. 'I thought I did, and I believed she loved me, but she just used me like she uses everyone around her,' said the Bard sadly. 'I didn't think it would happen to me though. I thought she would always protect me after Lady Cecile died, but she did not.'

Elissa swallowed and sat up, looking up into the canopy of the forest. 'What do you intend to do? She doesn't seem to be the sort who will go away just because you ask nicely.'

'I don't know,' Leliana admitted. A note in her voice suggested that she was scared, more scared that she had ever been in her life.

'She watched and waited for two years to see what I would do. I may never be rid of her.'

'You have time to decide,' said Elissa quietly, as she got up.

'Thank you,' said Leliana, making Elissa stop and turn around. 'For not wanting to kill me for this.'

Elissa blinked. 'Don't get me wrong, Leliana, I'm angry but I don't just go around sticking my sword in anyone without good cause, and neither does my husband. But be warned, if you endanger me or any other member of our group like this again you will wish you hadn't.'

Leliana nodded her head, acutely aware that she was no long talking to Elissa but to the Queen of Ferelden, and that she had very much been put on probation. 'Of course, Your Majesty,' she replied quietly.

Elissa nodded her head before walking back to the group, head bowed as she tried to think about the implications of having Leliana with them, and realising that it wasn't all that different to being surrounded by the rest of their group of outlaws. All of them were wanted for some alleged crime, real or confected.

'You shouldn't be too hard on her.'

She looked up, having not seen Alistair as she walked back, too lost in the miasma of events that had led to this moment.

'She's a spy,' Elissa replied. 'An Orlesian spy.'

'Yes, I know,' said Alistair with a sigh. 'But Zevran is a Crow and Sten a Qunari, both of whom could use anything we know against us for the people they are truly loyal to. But I honestly think Leliana is loyal to you and the Chantry. Whatever life she had before she seems to have put behind her before this happened.'

Elissa huffed out a breath of grim laughter. 'She's only loyal to herself.'

Alistair gave her a doubtful look, and in her mind, Elissa's thoughts backtracked a little. She glanced around the eaves of the forest and crossed her arms over her chest before her eyes settled on the group huddled around the camp fire just out of earshot.

'I keep wonder what other surprises will be thrown at us,' she said.

'Well, we know all their dark secrets now,' replied Alistair, looking thoughtfully at the group as well.

Even she had to admit that he was right. They did know all their dark secrets and what each person was wanted for. She glanced back in the direction of Leliana.

'If she betrays us,' Elissa said warningly.

'Then I'll be first in line to deal with her,' replied Alistair, 'but I don't think she will. I've watched her these past weeks and I don't know…' he shrugged. 'It's your decision at the end of the day, Liss.'

She raised her eyebrows at him. 'I don't think it is,' she said quietly. 'You're the King; ultimately it's you decision what happens to her.'

'This isn't about being King or not,' he replied. 'Out here, we're not the King and Queen, we're us and these people, they are our friends, the people we care about and the only ones who are really going to stand by us in this Maker forsaken Blight.' He put his hands on her shoulders. 'Leliana has stood by you since your darkest hours in Lothering when you thought all was lost, and now she is in her darkest hour. Unless she attempts to stab you in the back while you sleep, then give her a chance to show her true allegiances, and you never know, those Bard skills she has might come in useful for our cause, particularly in Denerim.'

She nodded, not needing to say anything further because she sensed Alistair realised how hurt she was by the confessions of Leliana and because he was right. It was moments like these she realised how well suited they were for each other, each having the ability to complement each other's personalities; where she could bolster his confidence in himself, he could quell the fires that could burn in her and lead her into doing something monumentally stupid. Without another word, Alistair enveloped her into his arms and she closed her eyes**,** hoping to feel a little sense of peace in the quiet of the moment, but her head was thrumming with thoughts and worries as it had been for the past few days.

She had not mentioned it to the others; she knew they all saw her as the vulnerable one, having succumbed to more injuries than any of them during the month they had spent travelling together. But it was there in her mind, she sighed and disengaged herself from Alistair's embrace.

'I should go hunting,' she said. 'We need good food if we can get it and I'm running low on sinew for my arrows.'

Alistair grimaced at her. 'Have I ever told you that it is slightly disgusting, watching you strip it away from the meat…' he shuddered theatrically.

'I had no idea that Your Majesty was so easily perturbed by my craft,' she remarked with a smirk. 'It's a shame we can't tan the hide as well while we're travelling**,** but it would be a pain to transport.'

'You can't tan hide, I know that for a fact,' he said chuckling. 'And it's not the craft that perturbs me, more the constant remind of how deft you are with that very sharp dagger of yours.'

Elissa smiled in response. 'I won't be long. I'll only go up the river, I have no desire to re-enter the forest. Ever.'

'Fair point,' he said, leaning over a stealing a kiss from her.

It was peaceful along the river and Cassius accompanied Elissa at her heel, nose to the ground as he attempted to scent any sort of prey that they could return to the fire side at camp, but the area was lacking in suitable game. She sighed, thinking about how much she hated this Maker forsaken forest and sincerely hoped that she would never have to set foot near it again. The events that had transpired in that forest would forever haunt her memories, adding to the miasma of horrifying experiences she had already gone through in the past few months.

She sighed to herself as she looked down the river, watching the slow following steam as it meandered towards Denerim. The light was fading fast and it seemed unlikely that her hunt would be successful today – she had doubts when she had left, the Blight was creeping up through the forest and no doubt anything that could have had already fled this area for safety. They'd be on dried rations until the got to Dragon's Peak

'Come on, Cass, let's head back,' she said to her Marbari, patting his head as they turned around. 'There's nothing out here tonight.'

As they walked back she hummed an ancient tune under her breath that she vaguely remembered someone singing to her once. The words were not in the King's Tongue, and as she formed the old words she remembered it had been an old mentor who had sung this when she was young and going on her first hunt. He had told her it was a incantation asking for the help of animals nearby in their quest as sung by the Rangers of Arlathan, but although the skill was now lost, he had said it was always good to remember where such abilities were rooted. Elissa smiled to herself as she recalled the simpler days of her youth, when war and politics were just a distraction from her desire to master her craft. She had never believed that it would be her marching into battle with only her hunting leathers and wit to help her.

Then there was a rustle in the undergrowth beside her. Elissa paused, a hand signal to halt Cassius and she quickly nocked an arrow. As she took aim, a wolf emerged from the undergrowth looking at her with a curious sense of sapience. Instantly, she was taken back to the brief moments in the forest earlier when she had stopped that other wolf from attacking her. Beside her, Cassius moved into a defensive position to protect his mistress. No wild animal should ever come so close to a human, not without wanting to attack. The odd look in its eyes confounded her and she relaxed her aim, looking back at the wolf with a desire to understand.

'An interesting talent you have there.'

The wolf spooked and ran back into the undergrowth. Elissa spun, just as shocked to come face to face with Morrigan. The witch had been patrolling the area in her bird form, Elissa had spotted her several times as she had wandered along the river's edge.

'What do you mean?' asked Elissa as she returned her unused arrow to her quiver.

A strange smile curved Morrigan's lips, an expression reminiscent of someone having a great secret that they were expecting the other person to realise. Whatever it was, it did not fill Elissa with a great amount of confidence and for the first time since coming into contact with the strange Wilder witch, Elissa felt ill at ease being alone with her. Her tongue in cheek remark about hiding behind Alistair echoed in her mind, mocking her because if the witch did do something that threatened her, Elissa would have no way of protecting herself.

'I told you once before that you know something of the power of the earth,' Morrigan continued, 'I somewhat suspect that is what saved you.'

Elissa's expression turned wary. 'I don't know what you mean,' she said quietly, not liking the way the witch seemed to be stalking her.

'I can teach you a little more of how to master communication with the animals; tis not too distant a skill to my own abilities.'

The young Queen swallowed. 'It isn't conversing,' she defended.

'Oh, so what else do you call it when a creature listens to your call and answers?' Morrigan asked pleasantly enough, but there was a hint of frustration to her voice. 'This gift runs deeply in your veins, Elissa, it saved your life so you should embrace it.'

She didn't want to embrace magic. It was one thing to not be afraid of it, but for someone like her to embrace the possibility that she had magic running through her? She was the Queen of Ferelden now; she could not afford to have such abilities. Cold dread welled up in her, because she had thought herself safe but suddenly the cocoon of her existence had exploded open, leaving her vulnerable and scared. Her whole basis of believing nothing was wrong hinged on her feeling the same as she ever had.

'When you stop being afraid, I will teach you some of what I know,' said Morrigan before she demonstrated that power by taking the shape of a crow and vanishing into the darkening evening.

Elissa watched the bird vanish into the darkness before looking down at her hound. 'She doesn't know what she's on about, does she?'

The dog cocked his head to the side and whined plaintively to his mistress. She gave him a doubtful look.

'Oh what do you know, Cass,' she said and he growled at her in response. 'You're just a dog, admittedly a very intelligent dog, but still, just a dog.' She smiled her Warhound as he seemed to scowl at her before walking on.


	25. The City of Kings II

_AN - It's been a while, rest assure I haven't forgotten, just work on this is currently slow going. _

_1st-2nd Haring, 9:30  
Dragon's Peak, Ferelden._

The weather on the slopes of Dragon's Peak was intolerable. Daylen had resorted to using his stave as a walking stick as he trudged through the knee deep snow but he was still exhausted from navigating over the difficult terrain. Had he known it would be this bad up here, he would have suggested entering Denerim without any prior knowledge of the situation there. Although, it would have been a dangerous course of action; his rag tag group of followers were highly recognisable by all accounts and they needed secrecy if they were to go about their business and leave without anyone ending up being arrested and executed. By his reckoning, among them were four people who could be executed for their crimes. He was one of those people, but in contrast to the others, he was also the only one who hadn't actually committed the crime of which he was accused. With any luck, this Bann Sighard would be able to provide them with the supplies so that they could go about their business and leave without raising an eyebrow.

As they continued their silent, miserable hike, Daylen hoped the diversion would be worth it because he might very well singe the mountain-dwelling lord just for living somewhere that was damn difficult to get to. Didn't he have a more sensible home he could relocate to in the winter?

He came to a halt, his side aching from a stitch in his muscles and fumbled with his water bottle, but his gloves were so thick it was difficult to get a grip the small cap. Eventually it came free and he tipped the ice cold contents into his mouth.

'How much further?' he called up to Elissa, who was once again guiding them through the difficult terrain**,** on account of knowing the route up the mountain as she and her late family had often visited the mountainside estate.

She paused and looked up the almost disguised road. 'Should be just over the next ridge,' she replied. 'An hour, two at the most.'

'I seriously hope so,' put in Kallian, a distinct chatter in her voice. 'I can't feel my feet.'

Daylen frowned, although he wouldn't admit it, he couldn't feel his extremities either; he wasn't entirely sure if that was a good or a bad thing. 'Okay, let's keep moving,' he said, 'and let us hope our next host has enough ale, food, and fire to get us all warm.'

Hopefully, this trip would be as successful as their sojourn with Arl Bryland. Although Daylen knew enough to know that the Wardens didn't swear allegiance to any noble, he would be a fool to think he could do any of this without the assistance of the nobility of Ferelden. One of the key points to their somewhat haphazard plan of finding the Archdemon and killing it involved raising enough support to ensure they could do it without hindrance. It also fitted in nicely with Alistair's plan to expose Loghain and claim his throne. As such, the group had already decided on the matter of who would be entering the city with whom. Not wanting to leave anyone behind, they had decided to split up into several small groups so that they could move around the city inconspicuously; Alistair had suggested making plans before reaching Bann Sighard's estate so they didn't look entirely useless.

It was good to at least have a small part of the plan in place for the moment, given that all the other steps between now and killing the Archdemon were very blurry, so blurry in fact that it sometimes seemed as good an option to succumb to the call as it was to fight it. He wasn't going to admit it but even surrounded by the people that were becoming like a mismatched family, he was lonely listening to the call and wondering what it portended for him.

A thought rose, unbidden to his mind. There was one person with them who was willing to join him in bearing the burden of the taint…

-…-

The estate of Bann Sighard came into view not long after they had crested the ridge that Elissa assured them it overlooked. Seeing the snow covered manor made her exhale her breath in relief. She did not think she could endure any further with just a wide, white expanse in front of her and no clue as to how much further it would be. She turned to watch for her companions, she had found a sudden burst of strength to push her ahead to check on their progress. First to come into view was Kallian followed by Leliana and Wynne. She could not help but smile at the three women. Their differences had caused undue friction since their experience in the forest and just for a moment it all fell away. At the thought of the troubles that were currently between her and Leliana and Wynne her gaze went skyward as she looked for the only member who had other options when it came to her choice of travel.

Her last conversation with Morrigan clung to her like a burr, in part, because she knew Morrigan was right. The Lady of the Forest had told her she would be changed, but how she would be changed, the spirit had not elaborated. Under the guise of going out hunting again, Elissa had tried the incantation that had seemingly called the wolf to her side and to her horror she discovered that it worked. She found curious yellow eyes looking back at her in the undergrowth. It was like a blow to the gut, only ten times more painful, and left her out of breath for longer than she cared to think about.

She would have to tell Alistair, of course, that the risk he had taken to save her life had left her in a position where she could not very well remain at his side once this way over. Oh Maker, this was going to be hard. She felt a chill run through her; if the Chantry got wind her of her new abilities, they would either lock her in the Circle tower, never to be seen again, or simply kill her outright for being a hedge mage. She tried to remain positive, for it was not as if she was creating fire or healing the masses, and it wasn't as if there was a known branch of magic that involved controlling animals, so perhaps they would never realise what she was. With any luck, perhaps she could retire back to Highever and live in relative seclusion there until her time was passed**, **as the Cousland estate had protected many mages in its time from the eye of the Chantry. Yet Morrigan… she could change at will and claimed to be able to speak to the beasts of the wild; tangible proof that there was magic beyond what the Chantry claimed existed. The Maker only knew what her mother had taught her, and if what Morrigan said about her mother was even vaguely true, then the Maker only knew what Flemeth was as well.

Elissa pushed the thoughts from her mind, determined to speak to Alistair tonight; they would have some privacy once they were settled in their rooms.

'Is this it?' asked Kallian, joining Elissa to look at their destination.

In comparison to holdings such as Highever, Redcliffe, Denerim, and even South Reach, the estate of Bann Sighard was seemingly insignificant for a man who commanded the influence and prestige that the Bann of Dragon's Peak did. It was a tribute to the personal respect that Sighard enjoyed among his peers that the lord of a relatively minor holding carried such political weight. Elissa nodded, turning to look back at the others who had been struggling more than she had.

'Come on,' she said to Kallian as they began the last few hundred feet with a bit of renewed vigour.

As they approached the house, the door swung opened and the two women found themselves being confronted by two guards bearing crossbows, between them stood Sighard with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Elissa and Kallian paused, looking at each other with confusion, before Elissa glanced back at the lagging group who had also come to a halt.

'What are they doing?' asked Kallian out of the corner of her mouth.

Elissa pushed back her hair, then kept her hands were everyone could see them, trying not to panic as a thousand thoughts rushed through her mind. Had Sighard changed his mind and now planned to hand them all over to Howe and Loghain, or was this is simple misunderstanding? Honour could be damned when an enemy held something precious over your head and Sighard was no different to other men in that regard. What matters of import could be used as his noose? But the moment Sighard seemed to recognise Elissa he gave the signal for his men to stand down.

The brief danger passed, Elissa put down her hands to place them on her hips as she heard the familiar sound of Alistair coming to join her side to find out what had just happened. She looked at Sighard critically, who looked surprisingly unapologetic.

'What was the meaning of that, my Lord?' she demanded as Alistair reached her.

'Word has reached Howe of my defection,' replied Sighard briskly. 'One cannot be too certain under the circumstances.'

'I doubt Howe would bother attempting to send men up here right now,' said Elissa, glancing around at the snow covered mountain slopes. 'I wouldn't have bothered had it not be for the fact that Arl Bryland said you'd have news.'

Sighard nodded. 'That I do have, but please Your Majesties, let me welcome you to my home and have refreshments before we begin,' he said, bowing to them both before retreating into his home.

Alistair grabbed Elissa's arm. 'We have to be careful,' he said quietly, watching Sighard's retreating back with great distrust. 'He knows no one else would have come up this mountain in these conditions.'

Elissa nodded and turned to Kallian. 'I need you to be on your guard and tell the others.'

'Of course,' she agreed as Morrigan fluttered down to join the others.

Inside they were greeted by warm rooms with braziers lit in all four corners of the great hall warding off the terrible cold. Bann Sighard stood at the head of the room surrounded by his wife, Amalia and his son Oswyn, both of whom looked understandably nervous both by the Bann's actions outside the manor and by the people who now filed into the room behind Alistair and Elissa. Sighard fell to one knee, bowing deeply for the young monarchs. 'Once again, I must extend my apologies for my actions outside, Your Majesties, and I must assure you, on my life, that you are safe in my home.'

'Thank you, Sighard, I'm sure you have an excellent excuse,' said Alistair sardonically as he indicated for Sighard to get to his feet.

'I will explain everything once you are refreshed, Your Majesty,' said Sighard, wringing his hands as the implications of his faux pas became abundantly clear. 'Howe has received word of my defection, and although you may think that Howe might not attempt the mountain, if the sack at Highever is anything to go by, then it is best to be well prepared than not at all.'

Elissa sucked in a breath at the stark reminder of what had happened in her home. 'Wise thinking,' she conceded quietly, not letting her dubiousness of the situation show through the Queenly mask she now wore.

Sighard nodded his head sharply. 'Given that I do not know where this leak of information has come from, I decided it wise to assume that Howe might attempt to intercept you here.' He smiled warmly at Elissa. 'So, if I might ask your forgiveness? It is rare to see you in armour and I simply did not recognise you.'

Elissa inclined her head with her court smile in place. 'Of course,' she said. 'Thank you for your concern.'

Sighard smiled warmly. 'Now that's out of the way, let me have Everett show you to your rooms to refresh.'

-…-

'What is going on,' Daylen asked Kallian once he was able to get a moment with the elf alone.

Kallian crossed her arms over her chest. 'It's possible that the Bann will turn on us,' she replied, walking over to the window and looking out over at the expanse of snow. Even the path they had cut up the mountain was covered in the blizzard that was now falling.

'Seduced by the coin in it for him over doing the right thing?' he said grimly. 'How much do you think we're all worth to someone like this Bann?'

'A small mountain of gold and his life,' mused Kallian. 'Ferelden politics is a minefield of alliances and promises. You're better off asking Alistair or Elissa about this, they understand it far better than I ever will. Me, I know my place; lowly elf guilty of murder with only a life of exile to look forward to after this.'

Daylen sat down heavily in a high backed chair. 'You don't know that,' he said. 'I doubt they will exile you once this is done.'

'It would appease the masses, not as much as my death would, but it would be enough,' she said sadly. 'I don't think you really understand what it is I've done. I've betrayed on my own people as well angering everyone else for stepping out of line.'

'Perhaps,' he agreed quietly. 'But it doesn't have to be this way.'

Kallian huffed out a breath of laughter. 'What are you suggesting**,** Warden?'

'Not what you are hoping I am suggesting,' he replied quietly. 'But there are other ways, other paths to take**,** Kallian.'

'I wasn't talking about being a Warden, I was talking about what else do you suggest? A thriving career in the Chantry perhaps, because that has worked out so well for Alistair and Leliana,' she said sarcastically.

'Actually, I think Leliana was quite happy in the Chantry, from what you've told me, she felt as if she had a higher calling when she met you,' replied Daylen.

'A higher calling that may or may not include spying on us,' bit back Kallian. Then she sighed heavily to herself. 'Sorry, Daylen. I'm just... I'm kinda scared of what they'll do to me if I go back to Denerim.'

Daylen nodded. 'Perhaps you should remain here,' he suggested.

'No,' she replied. 'I've seen the way the Bann has been looking at me. He'd likely hand me straight over to Anora based on the look I've seen in his eyes.' She sighed heavily. 'No, what will be, will be and I must see my family at least one last time before I go for good.'

Words came to him, to tell her not to lose hope, but he had said it before and she had not listened then. She infuriated him, yet a thought had begun working its way into his mind and he did not like its direction. Ever since she had first suggested following a Warden's life, he had thought about it; it was incredibly lonely suffering from all the nightmares alone, the thrum of the call in his head, and while he would not wish it on anyone it would be nice not to be the only one. He had to respect that Kallian knew enough of what he endured and was capable of making an informed decision of what she was getting into. Surely it would be better to endure this with someone who wanted this life, as oppose to any soul who was conscripted without a true sense of what they were getting into as he had been. He could tolerate guiding Kallian through the worst of the transition, provided she survived instead of dying as that recruit in Ostagar had done – Maker, he couldn't even remember the poor soul's name.

'What are you thinking about now?' Kallian asked, breaking his thoughts.

He shook his head. 'Just of the coming days.'

-…-

'You tread a thin line by keeping the elf with you.'

Elissa looked up to see Bann Sighard join her at the window in private parlour that had been set aside for hers and Alistair's use. Sighard had requested a private audience with her the moment he had gotten wind that Alistair had left her to freshen up after the journey up here and she had acquiesced to the meeting. She turned to look out over the vast snow covered plains. In the summer, you could see from here right down into the city, but at this moment it was obscured in the flurry of snow that were now falling heavily. She knew what it was that Sighard wished to speak off, she had seen it in his eyes when he had finally recognised Kallian during his formal greeting in the hall. Being this close to Denerim, he would know of her supposed involvement in Kallian's abscondment from the prison cells in Fort Drakon. Elissa knew from Alistair that word had gotten around that she was responsible for the elf's escape and that someone, namely Anora, would likely seek to use it against her. While she was uncertain of her future with Alistair as his Queen for the moment, she still was the Queen and she'd be damned if anyone used her actions against him when it was already clear that he would be a better monarch than the Dowager Queen who was still desperately clinging to power.

'Zevran isn't that bad,' she said, deliberately deflecting attention from the matter Sighard wished to discuss. The assassin was as equally a contentious subject as Kallian was.

'I do not speak of the assassin, but that is as equally a thin line,' replied the Bann harshly. 'You surround yourself with dangerous individuals when you should be in Denerim putting a stop to Loghain. But the handmaiden is the biggest of your troubles.'

She cast a sidelong glance at Sighard. 'And why would that be?' she asked with a note of feigned innocence. 'She has done me no harm.'

'You cavalier attitude to the matter does you no credit. I thought you father raised you to be wiser than this in such matters,' replied Sighard, his ire rising when it appeared she was not as concerned as he thought she should be. 'She deserved the hangman's noose and you had no right to intervene in a sentence that you know full well was handed down lawfully by Queen Anora.'

'And what of Kendells?' asked Elissa evenly. 'I suppose it is right that he should just get away with murder and rape so brazenly?'

'I have not said that, and I would happily see him swing for his crimes, but you damage your standing by allowing that elf to live,' he said. 'You should be aware that you will face opposition for keeping her alive and some will ask you to rectify the issue before lending you support.'

'Is it a condition you are setting, Bann Sighard?' she asked him, turning to look him fully in the eye. 'You will withdraw aid over the matter of Kallian because she stood up for the rights of her and her people?'

'She murdered twenty men,' replied Sighard bluntly.

'And what of the number that Kendells has reportedly killed and raped, Sighard?' she asked. 'Or do they not matter because they were whores and elves?' She sighed heavily. 'I do not condone what she has done, but I did not want to see Kendells escape punishment or do you believe our laws should not apply to ourselves? That we are above them?'

'You certainly believe you are above them,' said Sighard harshly. 'It is the only way I can describe your behaviour. Your actions will only cause unrest; the elves will believe they have more liberty and the rest of us will think that our Queen will not step up to protect us when the elves do revolt. With any luck, your father instilled more sense on such matters to your husband.'

She turned to face the Bann. 'For the moment, she is one of the few who has the inclination to stand up before the darkspawn threat while the rest of you cower in your demesnes fearing Orlesian ghosts and fighting among yourselves.' She placed her hands on her hips. 'You fear Arl Howe coming up this mountain and stripping your title from you more than you fear the darkspawn. Those darkspawn are ripping through Ferelden indiscriminately, taking everything from all of us and you have the gall to stand here and lecture me about the men and women who are willing to throw themselves in harm's way for this country because you care more about your name? Let me tell you now, your name, your standing, your wealth and power means nothing to the true threat to this world because it is a mindless force of destruction that cannot be bullied, bribed, cajoled, or negotiated with.' She shook her head at the man and turned back to the gardens. 'We're all going to die, Sighard, if we don't unite and face the true threat together as the united kingdom that Calenhad made us.'

Sighard chuckled under his breath. 'Very eloquently put, Your Majesty,' he said. 'For the moment, you have my discretion on the matter of Kallian and the other questionable companions in your midst, but it is an uneasy truce on the subject. I will seek to see it fully resolved once the Blight is over.'

Elissa nodded tightly. 'Fine,' she said shortly. 'We will attend to the matter once the Blight is quelled.'

-…-

Alistair could not help but overhear the conversation between Sighard and Elissa. The Bann had been visiting her in the rooms that Sighard had assigned to them so it was entirely plausible to expect him to return at any point. He had stopped, listening as he had considered Elissa's impassioned speech about power, standing and wealth not meaning a thing against the true threat; never had truer words been uttered. He sat down heavily in the Sighard's library, not wanting to let Elissa know he had overheard their conversation and the fact that it clearly pertained to Kallian. He had not given much consideration to how other members of the nobility would see it; not everyone was going to be as tolerant of the elf and her situation as Teagan and Bryland had been.

Kallian had proven herself worthy of her life, but the nobility were never going to see it that way. She was an elf and a murderer and no one was going to see the good she had done because she had the audacity to stand up for herself and her people, something completely intolerable to the self-important and racist nobility. Elissa was right to stand up for Kallian, even if it proved unpopular, but what would happen once the Blight was over and the other nobles, as Sighard had suggested, looked to resolve the issue with her neck in a noose?

He sighed heavily. It wasn't right, Kallian had every right to redeem herself for what happened with Kendells, and Kendells should be hung for the litany of crimes attributed him. He didn't even care if there wasn't proof, Ferelden would need a fresh start and the likes of Kendells and Howe were not names he wanted to see in positions of power during his reign. With any luck, the Blight would wipe them out, although he had every reason to see Howe and his son ended; conspiring to kidnap the Queen with the intention of unlawfully wedding her to Thomas and then murdering her was treason. Alistair didn't even need to come up with an excuse. Howe had thrown it in his lap.

Despite promising Elissa he would not seek vengeance, Alistair could not help but think how it would feel to end the life of Howe and his youngest son. It welled up in him like dark desire and it took him a moment to recompose himself. For Elissa, he would not give in to that dark desire. For Elissa, he would do anything, and yet over the past few days she had grown distant. Since Leliana's revelations, she had retreated into a shell that she could not be coaxed out of and it concerned him. Admittedly, she had been through a lot over the past few months and she had to reach her limit at some point, but if she would just let him….

Who was he kidding?

It was his fault she was here. Had she remained in Redcliffe, she would have suffered none of the trials of the past month and Teagan would have protected her with his life in the event that Howe turned up. He shook himself of the thoughts; Elissa knew what she was getting into and understood the paramount importance of their mission. It was entirely possible that her distance was to do with Leliana. As a proper born and bred noble, Elissa was likely to be leery of the Orlesians even with a tolerant father such as Bryce Cousland. She was likely preserving her thoughts and opinions until she could be sure of Leliana, and her mood was not helped by the apparent distrust that Sighard had fostered in his actions both earlier and just now.

Content that enough time should have passed for Elissa not to be wary of the fact he overheard every word of her conversation with Sighard, Alistair headed back to their rooms with a mind to just check on what was bothering her. He found her gazing out the window, still as a statue. She had changed out of the armour and bathed, now wearing a long gown of pale wool with her hair lose. If she heard him enter the room, she made no indication until he placed a hand on the small of her back. She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled, indicating that she had heard him.

'What's wrong?' he asked her quietly. 'You've been quiet for days.'

She smiled tightly and returned her gaze to the snowy plains. 'I was just thinking,' she replied.

Alistair's hand travelled up her back. 'Has something happened?' he asked cautiously.

Elissa shrugged. 'I don't know,' she said slowly. 'Well, it did, but I don't know how to explain it and Morrigan suggested something, but, I don't know.' She turned to look at him. 'What would have happened if I had become a mage after what happened in the forest?'

Alistair frowned slightly at her question, his hand on her neck. 'I would have found a way to protect you,' he said.

'So very bold,' she said with a smile, looking down at her hands.

His fingers found a spot that had become tight with knotted muscles. 'Elissa, love,' he said as he began to massage the tight spot, 'what did Morrigan say to you.'

Elissa twisted her father's signet ring on her middle finger as she tried to put into words what she needed to tell Alistair. It had played on her mind before they had reached the snow covered mountain. She had gone over hundreds of possible conversations in her mind and occasionally quietly aloud under breath when she took evening watch. Nothing seemed to encompass what was bothering her without sounding ridiculous.

'Liss?' he prompted when she didn't say anything.

'She believes that I may have the ability to communicate with animals,' she said in a rushed breath. Alistair stopped what he was doing and his hand dropped. She spun to face him, the colour draining from her cheeks and looked expectantly at him for an explanation.

He hung his head and turned from her. 'It's entirely possible that Morrigan is right,' he admitted as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He remember what the spirit of the forest had said when he had brought Elissa to her and the changes it could wrought, but when she had awoken with no sign of anything different, well, he had thought the spirit had merely been wrong. Besides, it hadn't mattered, just so long as she lived.

'I see,' she said slowly. 'I take it you were aware that this could happen and you chose not to tell me?'

Although her tone sounded mild, he recognised the building ire. 'It wasn't so much as chose not to tell you, but…' he shook his head, sighing heavily. 'We got back in that cavern and you were there, whole and still you and then as the days passed nothing changed and I figured... I'm sorry, I should have told you.'

Any building ire was rapidly faded from her eyes to be replaced with a soft look and a gentle smile after such an earnest apology. 'So what does this mean for us?'

He walked back over to her and placed his hands on the tops of her arms, and squeezed reassuringly. 'We'll work it out, Elissa,' he said. 'When I performed that Smite just after you woke up, it didn't do anything to you, so perhaps you aren't a mage.'

'But what else can it be?' she asked a little desperately.

'I don't know, but Morrigan, she seems to know, you could ask her to help you,' he suggested.

Elissa looked at him, staggered at his suggestion. 'You hate Morrigan.'

He shrugged. 'But if she can help you…' he said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. 'I did this to you, I'm not going to leave you to deal with it alone. We don't know what it means yet, so no hasty decisions.'

His voice was so serious, but sincere that she could not help but feel comforted by him despite all that it could mean for them. 'Of course, my love.'

He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back fiercely. Her whole being felt surprisingly lighter by his suggestions and vow he would not leave her to face this alone.

-…-

Coming down from the mountain was a far easier and shorter journey than the hike up the mountain. The weather had not broken, but for reasons that neither Elissa nor Alistair would disclose, they were to leave Dragon's Peak anyway. Whatever had occurred, it was clear that Bann Sighard had managed to offend the King and Queen regardless to how civil their stay had seemed. Daylen had to ponder at it, and while Kallian confirmed to having her suspicions on the matter, she did not divulge those thoughts to anyone, not even to him whom she often spoke so freely with. Not for the first time since finding himself involved with the complicated politics of Ferelden, Daylen was glad that he didn't really have to entangle himself in them and was unusually grateful for Elissa's presence, as she seemed to mollify the previously hostile Bann with only her tone of voice. It was a talent that Daylen knew Alistair had no aptitude for and despite her weakness on the battlefield if anything got near her, Elissa had a way with people that everyone else bar Leliana lacked. Musing to himself, Daylen decided that the Queen and the Bard would make a formidable team if only Elissa would set aside her continued annoyance that Leliana had been able to conceal her past so effectively.

Despite whatever offense has occurred between the fractious nobles, Bann Sighard has still gone to great lengths to ensure that they were well outfitted for the weather and their task in the city. Thick woollen clothes had been presented to them, with heavy fur lined boots designed to keep the infernal weather out. Although he knew better, Daylen half hoped for a complaint from Elissa about the quality of clothes, but Kallian informed him that she looked content, even pretty in the woollen leggings and dyed blue tunic she was wearing. It was a grim realisation to come to, knowing he was waiting for Elissa to really show her weakness so he could needle her, but he also knew after the strength she had shown on this journey that she would never give in to her weaknesses. Over the past month he'd come to respect that about her. Not that he was about to tell anyone that.

There was something comforting about it just being the nine of them again, ten if you counted Cassius; the masks of nobility fell away the moment Bann Sighard's home disappeared over the ridge and it was almost as if there is a collective sigh of relief between them all as they reverted back to their usual selves.

'Well, that could have gone better,' said Alistair, glancing back at the emptiness.

'Do you mind explaining to us lowly commoners what in the Void happened in there?' Daylen asked.

'Monumental display of noble pig headedness,' replied Alistair in an offhand manner.

Daylen couldn't help but chuckle at Alistair's tone of voice. With an attitude like that, he was going to make an extraordinary King when he finally started to rule the Kingdom, it was about time the nobles were put in their place in this little country where each of them thought themselves a king of their small patch of land.

-…-

They decided against heading directly for Denerim when they reached the bottom of the mountain, which was now covered in a light dusting of snow. Together, they needed time to finalise their plans before splitting off into the smaller groups that they would enter the city in. From where they were camped, the city was still fully in view, with Fort Drakon tower vanishing into the low lying, snow laden clouds. Elissa stood at the edge of the camp, looking at the city, deciding how she was going to broach the subject she needed to with Morrigan. After her quiet discussion with Alistair, they had decided that she would seek the aid of the witch so that they could get to the bottom of what had happened to them and what they would need to do in the future. For now however, she was still his and he had vowed he would not let her go. In the end, it might be a vow he could not keep, but it was a beautiful gesture.

She glanced back to her husband**,** who was sparring with Sten again. The great hulking Qunari was a fine incentive to get one's skills in order. He was a formidable force and one which Elissa remained well clear off, but there seemed to be a firm, strong respect blossoming between the two men that could only be found among brothers-in-arms. Together, Alistair and Sten acted as a strong shield for the group in battle, taking the brunt of the assault before anyone else was in the fray. Scared as she was of the largely silent Qunari who had vowed to take her life should it have been required while she was in the forest, she was grateful he was there. It was strange the alliances that came together in the face of great adversity. Bann Sighard was not wrong about the fact that all of people she was surrounded by were dangerous. Her eyes drifted to the woman she had thought to be the less dangerous of them all and she felt her heart sink a bit. Alistair had been right, she was being far too hard on Leliana for her revelation, particularly now that she felt at the mercy of the people around her in light of what could happen to her if what she carried was a form of magic.

With a heavy sigh, Elissa walked over to the quiet bard. She hadn't said a word out of turn since the ambush and only now did it occur to Elissa how quiet the camp was without her stories, laughter and occasional singing.

'Have you decided what you are going to do?' she asked, sitting down on the log beside Leliana and stretching out her legs.

Leliana shrugged. 'I do not know for certain,' she replied. 'I like to think that I could just ask her to go away, but she waited and waited while I was in the Chantry. She may never leave me be.' She hung her head. `I may have no choice but to fight her.'

'Whatever path you choose, you have my support,' said Elissa, smiling slightly at Leliana. 'We were friends a week ago, were we not? Besides, I can't rely on Kallian to make sure I'm at my best if we have to take on more idiotic nobles in the name of this cursed war. I need the help of someone with a little more refinement than she has.' She leant over to Leliana. 'Is it me, or does she spend rather a lot of her time in the company of our noble Warden companion.'

Leliana looked up, a smile on her face. 'She does at that.'

Elissa smiled back before she laughed, surprised to realise it had been a long time since she had really laughed with someone other than Alistair. Behind her was the sound of a sword swishing through the air followed by the clank of metal against metal. Elissa and Leliana spun around to see Alistair hopping from one foot to the other.

'That hurt you know, this armour isn't as thick as my usual set,' he complained to Sten.

As part of their disguise, Alistair and Sten had swapped their very impressive armour sets in favour nondescript armour favoured by mercenaries the world over. Bann Sighard had vowed to arrange for their usual sets cleaned and repaired before sending it to the city ready for when they left. But the upshot was that their new attire was not nearly as protective as what they had previously been wearing.

'Then let us hope you won't actually get into a fight wearing it,' replied Sten in a board tone. 'Pick up your sword. There is still much to do if you can still be distracted by giggling women.'

Alistair threw Elissa a disparaging look and her smile widened for him. The future could wait.

-…-

She waited until it was dark and the others had turned in before she carefully disengaged herself from Alistair's protective hold. It was Morrigan's turn for watch and the apostate always remained in her human form and in camp when she was require to sit through the lonely hours of the watch. Whereas the others in camp where often joined when they were on watch, Elissa was often joined by Alistair, Kallian or Leliana, while she would return the favour, no one really liked to be with Morrigan, preferring to leave her be. Elissa understood why; the witch was caustic and her presence was an unknown quantity. No one truly knew the reason why she remained, particularly when she seemed to be disdainful of her companions. The only one she did not show contempt for was Elissa, but after their conversation a few days earlier, even that was on a fine line.

If the witch was aware of Elissa's approach she made no attempt to show it as she gazed in the depths of the fire before her. Elissa twisted her fingers and glanced around the camp, fervently hoping that everyone was asleep. She didn't want anyone else to know what she had discovered about herself until she knew what it meant for her future.

Certain they were alone, Elissa sucked in a breath. 'I need your help,' she said to Morrigan's back, 'if you still have a mind to aid me.'

Morrigan glanced over her shoulder at the younger woman. 'And what has brought on this change of heart?'

'I have to know what it means for us,' she said, 'for me and Alistair. I want to understand what has happened to me and if I need to hide my 'talents' from the Chantry if needs be.'

The apostate laughed huskily. 'The Queen of Ferelden seeks to defy the Chantry?'

'My family has defied Chantry rule on the matter of mages for two hundred years,' she replied, 'what is another generation?'

'Indeed, and what of the Templar?' Morrigan asked slyly.

'My _husband_ is aware of the situation, if that is what you mean,' said Elissa. 'Indeed, it was his suggestion that I accept your original offer for help.'

Morrigan smiled as she looked back at the fire. 'So be it,' she said, 'we shall begin when we leave the city, for I doubt there will be many opportunities for lessons there.'

Elissa nodded her head. 'My thanks, Morrigan.'


End file.
